The sixth element
by luckyserpent
Summary: Translation! Original: Das sechste Element by Bint-Anath. Harry, Ron and Hermione are hunting the Horcruxes, whose hiding places are connected to the elements. They are supported by Draco, who considers this mission to be his only chance to survive...
1. Antistress bath

****Hi, everyone!

this is a translation of the great German story "Das sechste Element" by Bint-Anath. I hope you'll enjoy the read and tell me what you think about it!

Have fun!

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><p><strong>Chapter 01 – Antistress-bath <strong>

Hermione read the label on the glass bottle filled with blue liquor: "Antistress – simply feel good." She uncorked it and sniffed, wrinkling her nose skeptically. After short consideration she decided to give it a try. She opened the water- tap and poured some liquor, strictly speaking as little as possible, into the bath tub. It wasn't that she didn't like something like that, but she was always a little skeptic towards Muggle products. Hermione sat on the edge of the bath tub und watched, as the water rose and foam formed on the surface.

She had been at home only a week. Hermione had tried to enjoy this period and to simply relax. But her parents noticed very quickly that she wasn't feeling well. At the beginning she couldn't contain her tears. In her mother's arms she had cried silently and asked herself, how _it_ could have happened. In the meantime her tears had run dry and many more questions had arisen, which plagued her night after night and kept her from sleeping.

Hermione closed the water- tap, took off her bathrobe und climbed into the tub. She slipped into the hot water und closed her eyes. Yes, that would do her good. She took a deep breath and tried not to think anything.

_Free your mind…_

But it didn't work. It was as always, when she was alone. Pictures buzzed through her head, pictures of that horrible night at Hogwarts.

Now everything had changed.

Without Dumbledore the hope of the people had faded, while the boldness and the will of Voldemort and the Death Eaters grew.

In front of Harry and Ron Hermione had tried to be as optimistic as possible. She had said that they at least knew what to do. They had to find the Horcruxes. They had to concentrate on that, even if it meant that they couldn't spend the whole year in Hogwarts.

Harry, Ron and Hermione planned to meet at Grimmauldplace on the weekend to put their heads together. Harry hadn't liked the idea of going there of all places, but Hermione hoped to find a few useful books there. Whether with or without books, figuring out, _where_ the Horcruxes were, _what_ they were und _who_ R.A.B. was, would prove to be very hard. Hermione wished for at least a hint on how to destroy a Horcrux.

Anyway, the Trio had their hands full and they hadn't told anyone about the Horcurxes. Not only was it better, if as few people as possible knew of them, but the order was also fully occupied. After the battle in Hogwarts some were tattered, worst of all Bill, whose face was still, and possibly forever, marked by Fenrir Greyback's attack. But it didn't seem to bother him at the moment, he was over the moon – his wedding with Fleur was coming up.

Some people in the Order tried to recruit new trustworthy members, since the number of the Death Eaters and hence the frequency of attacks was growing too. Three days ago there had been an assault on a Muggle family, however only the grandmother had been at home. No one knew exactly, which pain she had been put through, before the Death Eaters ended her life…

Now it was harder than ever for the Order to protect the people from attacks or to thwart Voldemort's plans, for Snape had betrayed them. They had no one in Voldemort's ranks, no one to spy –

Hermione snapped her eyes open. A thought had occurred to her. A crazy idea. It was… impossible. She shook her head. There was no way… or was there? She considered the idea. After everything Harry had told her, maybe there was the possibility that… She had to talk to Harry und Ron! Now! Well, after she got dressed. She would Apparate to the Burrow und then with Ron to Private Drive and…

Suddenly Hermione was filled with doubt. She knew her friends well. Harry and Ron would probably declare her crazy, if she showed up with this idea. There was no way that they would participate, even if Hermione pointed out her arguments over and over again. No, if she really wanted to put her plan into action, she had to do it by herself. Alone.

_Alone!_

Hermione shivered. Well, that's going to be fun… perhaps it wasn't such a good idea after all?

Suddenly, before she could follow her thoughts, something came to her mind that Dumbledore had once said to her.

_More than our abilities it is our decisions, which show, who we really are. _

Hermione had no idea, how these words came into her head all of a sudden, but now she was pondering on them. Was it an ability to kill? Or do you have to decide on or against it? According to Harrys narrations Hermione had the impression, that _he_ was unable… That meant, he lacked the ability, but he chose it… so that would mean, that he was, what she hoped he wasn't. He decided on it, but was unable. Or… wasn't it possible that he was able, but would have decided against it? If _that _were true, Dumbledore's words would speak _for _him. Even though everything Hermione knew suggested the contrary.

In this moment she was extremely glad not to have to share these confused thoughts with Harry und Ron.

Lost in thoughts, she ran her hand over the foam. Could she really risk it? If she was completely wrong, the aftermath would be fatal, if not deadly for her. But on the other hand Hermione was convinced that they mustn't bury their heads in the sand! They all had to risk more. They were already living on dangerous grounds anyway. Besides it was probably their only chance to get to useful information…

Decidedly Hermione pulled the plug out of the drain.

Mrs. Granger cleared away the pots from the table after lunch, while Hermione carried the dishes into the kitchen.

"Mum?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

„I, uh, just wanted to say that I have to stop by at Diagon Alley… get something", Hermione explained.

"What do you need that's so important?" her mother asked surprised.

"It's, uh… nothing."

Mrs. Granger quirked her eyebrows skeptically.

„It's just… we have this homework in Potions and… you know me. I'd like to finish them as quickly as possible, but for that I need something from Diagon Alley… dragon blood and rat saliva, to watch the effect of coldness on liquors," Hermione lied hastily.

She hadn't told her parents that she would probably go hunting Horcruxes with Ron and Harry during school time. Her parents also didn't know that for the first time in her life Hermione wasn't thinking about school in her holidays. To be honest, the only thing Mr. and Mrs. Granger knew was that Voldemort had done something horrible.

"All right. But please hurry," Mrs. Granger said with slight anxiety in her voice.

"Sure, Mum. See you later!"

Hermione Disapparated and found herself standing in the middle of London in front of the dirty door of the Leaking Cauldron.

Since she was going to an unknown destination, she could not Apparate and had decided to use the fireplace of the Leaking Cauldron hoping that her destination was connected to the floo network. She had determined to come after noon, because it was the middle of the day and perhaps the safest time.

Hermione opened the door and tried to get to the fireplace as inconspicuously as possible, which was not exactly easy. There were only two guests plus the landlord in the pub. All three looked at her surprised, for visitors had become rare lately, and young girls, all alone by themselves, were an astonishing sight.

Hermione looked at them nervously. When she finally got to the fireplace, she took some floo pulver and stepped in.

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><p>AN: Well, what do you think so far? Please tell me! I'm dying to know!<p>

This is my first attempt at translating from German to English. Up to now I've only done it the other way round. So please be patient with me :D


	2. My fireplace, my room, my manor

**Chapter 2 – My fireplace, my room, my manor**

„Malfoy Manor," Hermione muttered with low, but clear voice, hoping that no one in the Leaking Cauldron understood her words.

She closed her eyes and discovered once more that she hated it. Using fireplaces for travelling came right after flying on broomsticks, Thestrales and Hippogriffs on second place of her Never-travel-like-that-again list. But it was unavoidable.

Finally she stopped spinning und Hermione tumbled out of the fireplace. She got up, brushed the ashes off her cloak and looked around.

"Oh," she gasped. The first thing she saw was the fireplace. Not only was it large, black and gleaming, but also ornate with silver snakes, which were perfectly carved to the finest detail. Each one of them had eyes of brilliant emeralds and seemed extremely valuable.

Hermione looked around the room. There wasn't any doubt that she was at the right place. Slytherins were living here, rich Slytherins. The room was also held in green and silver and furnished expensively, but classy.

Before Hermione could examine the furniture any further, she heard footsteps. Her heart was beating rapidly. Now that she was standing here, she thought her plan to be the stupidest thing she had ever done.

_Merlin! Now I am dead._

The steps were definitely coming nearer. Hermione looked around for an adequate hideout, when something caught her attention. It wasn't human steps. No normal person would walk this way, if anything little children with their small steps.

An idea came to her mind, who or what it possibly was, when it was confirmed immediately.

A house elf had opened the black wood door opposite the fireplace and peered into the room.

"Uh… good day, Miss," he squeaked, apparently surprised to find someone like Hermione here.

"Uh, hello," Hermione said. She felt out of her element.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the elf was asking now, as he closed the door behind him silently.

"I… well, is Malfoy home?" Hermione asked nervously.

"You mean the young Mr. Malfoy?" the elf responded.

Hermione nodded.

"He hasn't told Todd that he is expecting visitors, Miss," the elf named Todd explained and eyed Hermione suspiciously.

"Well, he doesn't know that I would stop by today."

"Who are you?"

"I know… Malfoy… from Hogwarts," Hermione stuttered.

"Todd will fetch him. Please stay here, Miss," Todd said.

„Not necessary," a voice called from the door.

Hermione gave a surprised shriek, she hadn't seen Malfoy enter. Todd turned around too.

„Shove off, Todd," Malfoy commanded. He took a step forward, opened the door and let the elf leave the room. Then he closed the door again.

Hermione suddenly realized how tall Malfoy was. Without her wand she wouldn't stand a chance, which was why she grabbed for it in her pocket and didn't take her eyes off Malfoy. He looked like always, black cloak with small details in Slytherin colors, only without the Hogwarts badge. Solely his face seemed… different. Something in his eyes had changed.

"Granger," he drawled. "Did you take the wrong fireplace? Or is this supposed to be a suicide attempt? How can you just show up here, _here_?" He shook his head.

Hermione didn't know what to say. The only thing she knew was that he apparently didn't intent to let her walk out of this alive – suicide attempt. What was that supposed to mean?

_Great, Hermione. Really great._

"You did take the wrong fireplace, didn't you? You just _can't_ be that stupid. Surely you know that this fireplace is recently often used by Death Eaters? You could have burst into a meeting…"

Hermione stood there petrified. What should she do? She wasn't able to think straight. Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, her hands were damp, while she tried hard not to panic.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, when she still wasn't speaking.

"Fine, you didn't take the wrong fireplace. You wanted, Merlin knows why, to come here."

Hermione decided to nod.

"What do you want?"

Hermione hesitated briefly, but plugged up her courage and said: "Talk."

"Talk?" Malfoy repeated surprised and laughed. "A mudblood is falling out of the fireplace and wants to talk. If my mother –"

"Listen, Malfoy! Either you kill me now or you talk to me or I'll go immediately." She had managed it: her fear was fading slowly.

Malfoy stared at her. "You are sure that you didn't take anything? I've heard Muggles take pills and –"

"Malfoy, don't be stupid!" Hermione tried to sound certain, but in reality she felt small, weak and out of place.

"Okay, fine. Come with me." He opened the door.

"What?"

"If my mother ever finds out that a Mudblood spent at least five minutes in this room… we are going to my room."

Hermione thought it best not to say anything and followed him. Here along a corridor, there up a broad staircase, past several doors, portraits and paintings. Hermione had to think of Hogwarts. Like in the castle you could lose your way here too. The estate had to be gigantic. Hermione walked behind Malfoy anxiously and silently. Amazed, which didn't escape Malfoy.

Eventually they arrived at Malfoy's room. The door was black as any other. The room behind it was huge. Hermione's mouth gaped wide open as she looked around. The room was flooded by bright daylight from the large windows on the opposite side. Hermione cast a fleeting glance through the glass, where she saw a big meadow and was almost sure to make out Quidditch hoops.

The curtains were green; the bed sheets on the large wood bed were also green and silver. All pieces of furniture consist of black wood; cushions, carpets and coats were green or silver.

There was a big shelf on the left wall, completely filled with books. With lots of books.

_Wow._

Only when Hermione noticed that Malfoy stared at her grinningly, she closed her mouth which had been wide open from awe. Her fright had vanished for the moment.

"I would love to see Weasel's face, when you are telling him about this." Malfoy sat in one of the armchairs, which were grouped around a small table in front of the book shelf.

"Shut up," Hermione murmured. She also took a seat.

"Don't say anything," she warned, when Malfoy opened his mouth. "You don't have to tell me, how horrible it is to have a Mudblood sitting on your holy antique pure blood furniture."

Malfoy didn't answer, but continued to smile his Malfoy- grin.

"Well," Hermione said. Now that she was sitting there, now that he seemed to be willing to listen to her, she didn't really know where to begin. Somehow everything was so different from what she had imagined, somehow he was so civil. Perhaps he was just someone else, who had taken Polyjuice potion? Or this was a trap. How could he just invite her into his room?

"You… shouldn't you kill me, torture me or take me to… Voldemort?"

Malfoy's grin vanished abruptly.

"Why should I?" he asked.

Hermione froze. Did he take her for a fool?

"Because of the mark on your forearm maybe?"

Malfoy was silent for a short moment.

"Nothing escapes you."

"Harry has suspected you the whole last year."

"He is a specialist in this area," Malfoy replied bluntly.

"He was there, Malfoy. He was under his Invisibility Cloak on the astronomy tower."

Hermione had no idea, why she was telling him that. It was the only thing that came to her mind at that moment.

„He was WHAT?" Malfoy yelled.

"Didn't you notice?"

"I had other things on my mind."

"Anyway, Harry was there from the beginning. He overheard your conversation and watched Snape… Snape…" She didn't have to complete the sentence.

Malfoy was silent and Hermione wasn't sure how to continue. She was afraid of him, no matter how he behaved.

"Didn't you want to or weren't you able to?" she asked quietly as the silence persisted. She knew that he understood what she meant.

"Does it make a difference?" he asked staring into emptiness.

"Of course there is a diff-"

"You can only kill somebody, if you _want_ to. To be able to, you _have to_ want to. Only if you want to, if you really want to, you are able to."

"But Harry told me that he wanted to hit Bellatrix with the Cruciatus- curse and he couldn't. But in that moment he hated her so much that he _wanted to_!"

„That was the day that Black died, right? Potter just… has a hot temper. But he is the good guy, the chosen one. It's not possible for him to _want_ it so badly to be _able _to." Hermione didn't miss the mockery in his voice.

"Uh… does that mean that you didn't want to… kill Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. It felt peculiar for her to be sitting in Malfoy Manor, having the first civilized conversation with Malfoy and talking about _this_ subject.

"You know what it means. Why do you ask?"

"I… well… actually I am asking because I… want to know more. Has Voldemort forgiven you?"

Malfoy stared at her incredulously. "Forgiven me? The Dark Lord does not forgive. He doesn't forgive anyone."

"Did he… punish you?" Hermione asked with horror in her voice.

"No, not yet. But he will." Malfoy paused briefly, but continued because he knew that Hermione would press further anyway. "He doesn't favor our family at the moment. My father is in Azkaban, my mother let Snape do the Unbreak… did something the Dark Lord does not approve. And I have failed three times. My father stays in Azkaban. He granted my mother and me two more weeks. He told us to think during that time, while he crows over Dumbledores death. But he hinted… that he will… kill me and my mother. He seems to think that it is more effective to know everyday that you will die soon… to warn other new Death Eaters, he cannot forgive my… faults."

Hermione stared at him aghast. "Why don't you escape?" She had completely forgotten to marvel that the boy in front of her was willing to answer her questions.

"He would find us. Besides my mother is…" He paused.

"He is trying to find Harry for seven years now! He didn't succeed!"

„He did find Potter. Potter just had the unbelievable luck to survive each time. "

„Hmmm… which brings me to why I came here in the first place," Hermione murmured.

"Which is?"

„Actually there isn't any reason for you to say no. Well… Harry, Ron and I have learned from Dumbledore how Voldemort can be destroyed. We know how to steal his immortality from him!"

Malfoy examined her, as if she had just revealed that he in fact wasn't human, but a pink ferret, whose brain had been hexed.

The only thing that he produced was: "Potter and Weasel agreed?"

"Uh, well. I… I haven't… talked with them yet…" Hermione said, getting quieter from word to word. That would be the next big problem.

Suddenly Malfoy laughed.

"You are really sure that no one spiked your drink? You come here, through the fireplace; you don't know if I or another Death Eater might kill you at once? And you ask me if I would help you finding the Horcruxes?"

Hermione knew exactly what part of the idea he found so crazy, but now she had another thing on her mind.

"You know about the Horcruxes?" she gasped.

"Yeah."

"How? Who else?"

„My mother got it from Snape. He spilled the beans when he argued with Bellatrix. Unbelievable, isn't it? I mean, it's Snape!"

"So Bellatrix, your mother, Snape und you know about them?"

"That's right."

"And Snape learned it from Voldemort because he is probably the closest to him. At least at the moment."

"Probably."

"What do you say?"

"What do I say to what?" Malfoy asked.

"Well, are you coming?"

Malfoy stared at her incredulously.

"You really think I want to live under the same roof with a Mudblood, Potty and Weasel?"

"You would at least live, Malfoy," Hermione answered quietly.

He shook his head.

"My mother would never do that. But… she won't do anything anymore. She…"

"And you?" Hermione asked.

"Me? I think now it's my turn to save the human race," he murmured sarcastically.

„Does that mean – "

„Come back tomorrow, same time as today. I will talk to my mother. Then I'll go with you… or I won't."

Hermione couldn't believe it. But before she could feel glad (she didn't even know whether it really was a reason for celebration), something came to her mind.

„Apropos mother… I should go home."

"Come with me."

Hermione followed him back into the parlor.

"Did you notice that this was our first humane conversation for seven years?" she asked without registering that she was talking to Draco Malfoy in an almost chatting tone. She was too relieved to pay attention to it.

"Yes, I did."

"I didn't know that you were capable of it," Hermione said.

"You never tried."

"Uh… yes, you didn't either."

„_I_ knew it," Malfoy said.

Hermione took some floo pulver out of a bowl next to the fireplace and climbed in.

"One more thing," Malfoy said. "Why did you think I would even talk to you?"

„You didn't manage to kill Dumbledore." Then she grinned. "And I know that you cried your eyes out in Myrtle's toilet. Leaky Cauldron!"

Hermione caught a short glimpse of Malfoy's distraught face and couldn't keep a grin off her face.

By the time she got home, she thought that it went much better than expected. She had assumed that they would, provided she survived their reunion, yell at each other and fight or do something even worse.

But what isn't yet may well still be.

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><p>AN: Please tell me what you think of it so far! It would mean so much to me! Thanks!<p> 


	3. David Smith

**Chapter 03 – David Smith**

"Hey, sweetheart, there you are!" Mrs. Granger greeted her daughter.

"Hi, Mum." Hermione wanted to leave the kitchen hastily, but felt her mother's eyes in the back.

"Now where is this dragon- stuff?"

"Well… uh…" Hermione turned to her und stuttered embarrassedly: "It… there wasn't any left..."

"Then where have you been all this time?" Mrs. Granger continued to ask.

"I… searched in other stores for dragon blood… but I couldn't find any," Hermione explained. Then she scurried into her room.

The whole afternoon she racked her head over where to accommodate Malfoy. She couldn't just let him sleep in the house after all. Or her mother's questions would never end.

Eventually she came up with the perfect solution and she already knew that it would be more than hard to convince Malfoy of it.

Draco opened the window and let the comfortable night air stream into his dark room. Tonight he looked into the star- spangled sky with different eyes. Tonight he didn't dread never seeing the stars again. He was given a chance, an opportunity he didn't even dare to dream of.

Nevertheless the decision was difficult for him. To spend the next weeks, possibly months, with Potter, Weasley and Granger wasn't exactly what he imagined freedom to be. But, and that was the main thing, it meant living.

Living.

He watched the thin trees in the distance swaying with the light evening breeze. The moon was shining tonight, brighter than ever in the past week, as if it wanted to spare the world the darkness, lit by the spark of hope in Draco's eyes.

Draco took a deep breath. He remembered so many times he had stood here to think, to enjoy a little peace.

At the end of his first school year, after Lucius nearly lost his temper, when he found out that Slytherin hadn't won the house championship. It was a disgrace that a Malfoy missed the chance on the cup. Of course Draco completely agreed with him, but he couldn't suppress his fear of his own father. Today Draco assumed that Lucius had been so ill- tempered because of the Dark Lord's failed resurrection.

But Draco soon learned that his father couldn't always repress his temper. Each mistake his son committed had to be punished. Mostly with words or on the contrary with ignorance till he eventually was granted the first, but also the only slap. Since then Draco hadn't dared to object his father or to even try to justify himself.

Nevertheless his father, Lucius Malfoy, had always been his role model. He wanted to please him, tried it with all his might, but it was difficult. Praise was rare, resentment even bigger. But Draco believed in all the ideals his father exemplified to him. They were Malfoys. They were to be treated as such.

After the resurrection of the Dark Lord not much had changed besides the fact that Lucius paid more attention to his son. Already back then he tried everything to turn Draco into a Death Eater worthy of the Dark Lord. Draco saw this as his ambition too, an ambition which meant to really possess the power to fight for his own believes. At that time he didn't know what it truly meant to serve the Dark Lord.

Now, two years later, he detected how hard it was. You had to give up everything. The only things you had to work und live for were the master's plans.

About a year ago he had received the Dark Lord's assignment: Dumbledore's death. At that time he had become scared. Not doubtful, but scared. Everyone made clear that a failure on his side would be inacceptable. His own father was captured in Azkaban and therefore couldn't help him. It war the first time that Draco had actually been alone. Before that he had always had his family or Crabbe and Goyle behind his back, who gave him strength und power.

But at that time his father couldn't give him advice, couldn't support him. He had been alone among the Death Eaters. He had to swear on his life and his parent's lives to serve and follow the Dark Lord forevermore. The pain, which resulted from the burn-in of the Dark Mark, he couldn't even imagine now. It had been a first challenge and he had passed it.

Afterwards the Dark Lord had personally charged him with Dumbledores Death and threatened him. If Draco failed the same way as Lucius, he wouldn't be able to hope for ending a prisoner in Azkaban, but his punishment would be death. It had taken him some time to register that the Dark Lord had wanted to punish Lucius with this.

What Draco had dreamed of in the past, turned out to be a nightmare. Never before had he experienced such desperation and mortal fear as in the past year in Hogwarts. For the first time he became aware, what it meant to be alone. To depend on himself alone.

However till that day on the astronomy tower he didn't have any doubts. He had been completely convinced by everything his father had ever taught him. And then there was the break.

It seemed so long ago, but it had been barely two weeks. Dumbledore had showed Draco something that he had labeled feebleness and stupidity his whole life, because he had never understood it, never experienced or simply never wanted it.

On the one side the plain truth. "Draco, Draco, you are no murderer," Dumbledore had said. Draco had denied it at that moment. He had always been so sure that he had it in himself to take someone else's life. It was what the Death Eaters were feared for after all. Only later had he admitted to himself that Dumbledore had been right.

Ironically he had been able to take heart from the old man's words:

"…A clever plan, a very clever plan… and, like you said, straight under my nose…" Dumbledore had said, after Draco told him how he had brought the Death Eaters into the castle. These words, this praise from the person whose murder he had come for had built him up oddly enough. Maybe because it was the only praise he had heard in such a long time. Kind words…

Of course at that time Draco was still sure that he was fighting for the right thing. Only slowly did the realization crawl up in him that he really wasn't a murderer. But he had had barely time to pay attention to that, for the conversation had been focused on Snape. Afterwards Draco had asked himself if Dumbledore didn't know about the Unbreakable Vow between Snape and his mother or if he had lied to him for some reason he didn't understand.

Eventually Dumbledore figured out that Rosmerta had been put under the Imperius- curse. At that time Draco had felt proud to show Dumbledore that he was able to cast an Unforgivable curse. But then Dumbledore said something that he found incomprehensible at first.

Draco had called Granger a Mudblood and Dumbledore had said: "Please don't use this repugnant word in my presence."

"You care about me saying Mudblood, when I'm about to kill you?" Draco had asked with a harsh laugh.

"Yes, I do," Dumbledore had answered. For Draco it was inapprehensible how Dumbledore could behave like that in such a situation. If it were him, he couldn't care less about other people's treatment, unless his parents were involved. Yet Dumbledore did, although he stood higher above Granger than above anyone else.

Eventually panic overcame Draco. „I have no choice! I have to do it! He will kill me! He will kill my whole family!"

Shortly after he had said this, something happened that had surprised Draco more than anything else before.

"I can help you, Draco." After everything he had done, he still offered him help. Had he wanted to forgive him?

But Draco was deeply convinced that no one could help him, not against the Dark Lord. Now that he thought about it, he registered that he had subconsciously already played with the idea, how it would be to abandon the Dark Lord. Instead of saying "I don't want your help. I want to stay on this side!" he had answered: "He ordered me to do it or he will kill me. I have no choice."

Dumbledore had offered to protect and to hide him and his whole family.

He had been on the verge to give up everything and accept Dumbledore's help. For he had discovered that he couldn't kill him, which would result in his own death. But in this moment the other Death Eaters had arrived.

The next minutes Draco would never forget. The Death Eaters ordered him to kill Dumbledore, while he now knew that he couldn't. He couldn't, he wouldn't. He wasn't able to.

But then Snape had arrived and ended Dumbledore's life, so fast and cold, as if the old man was nothing but an annoying insect. He had grabbed Draco afterwards and Disapparated to Malfoy Manor. During this time Draco could neither think clearly nor define his feelings. He was scared, petrified, moved, shocked, confused and so much more. Soon the Dark Lord had appeared and promised him and his mother death.

Draco had seen no way out – until now.

He would live.

But he knew that there was nothing that could convince his mother to go with him…

A bird soared through the night, free of sorrows and fears, and landed on one of the Malfoy Manor's smaller towers. Draco closed the window.

"Malfoy Manor!" Like the day before Hermione Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, having served up yet another story to her mother, which she had already forgotten by now.

"And I had thought, you wouldn't come anymore," Malfoy said annoyed, when Hermione staggered out of the fireplace.

"We are going back," she said instead of answering him. She felt queasy because she still didn't trust him. She almost expected Death Eaters to appear from behind the couch at any moment.

"Then we have to go outside. You can't Apparate in here." Malfoy took his trunk and walked to the door.

"Do you really need such a big bag?" Hermione asked, pointing at his luggage.

"Otherwise I would hardly have it with me."

They arrived at the huge black front door and Malfoy reached out for the handle.

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your mother?" Hermione asked surprised.

"I already did," he answered and pulled the door open.

"I see. Why?"

"So she wouldn't see you," Malfoy said.

„Oh, how could I forget! She would have burned her eyes, if she saw a Mudblood! And in her house too!" Hermione hissed furiously. She closed the door behind her.

"That's another reason. But the main thing is that she could unwillingly tell the Dark Lord something about you or me. I only informed her that I am going. But not where to, why and especially not… with whom," he explained.

He led her towards a large gate. He and Hermione passed through and closed it silently behind them. Hermione turned around and for the first time her glance fell on the Malfoy Manor's external appearance. Her eyes widened while she examined the gigantic, old building. It was simply –

" – incredible," Hermione breathed.

"What?" Malfoy asked, though knowing what she meant.

"Uh… nothing. Come on… I think we should both grab the trunk."

Hermione reached for the bag Malfoy held with one hand. Then she concentrated and a few moments later she found herself standing in a nice garden with colorful flowers in front of the Granger's house.

"You live in here?" Malfoy asked in a tone that suggested Hermione was residing in a garage.

Hermione nodded.

"It's… small."

"Just wait till you know, where _you_ are sleeping," Hermione grinned diabolically. She went over the green lawn to the left – directly towards a little wooden shed. In there her parents kept all kinds of instruments for garden work, garden furniture and cushions. The chairs and the table were standing on the porch, so there would be enough space in the shed for Malfoy.

„Are you telling me, that I'm going _in there_?" Malfoy asked with a shocked expression.

„Exactly."

„No."

„Yes."

„No, I refuse to set a foot in there."

"Do you want to sleep outside and be found by my parents?"

"Why can't I sleep in your house? There has to be a room somewhere… shit, your house is just far too small." Malfoy scowled at the house.

"That's right. And now go in." Hermione opened the squeaking wooden door. Neither of them entered the shed.

Malfoy peeked inside disgustedly. Aside from dust and cobwebs it was filled with old cushions, shovels, sacks filled with flower soil and many more things, which a Muggle used in a garden.

"You don't really expect me to cower in here for the next days?"

"That's the only way, Malfoy."

"No. There always is another way!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I knew you would make a fuss and believe me this is the only way. Now go in."

"No. I refuse to let a Mudblood stick me into a disgusting Muggle – "

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "Then what do you think we should do?"

"You sleep here and I in your room," he said seriously.

„I'm not sure how it is with your parents, but _mine_ wouldn't be very happy to find a stranger in their daughter's bed, while she is sleeping outside in the shed. And they would certainly not ask questions," she said sarcastically. Then she stepped through the open door into the shed.

„Now come in!"

„I'm not letting a Mudblood boss me around!"

"Will you just knock it off?" Hermione said angrily. "Merlin! Just because my parents are Muggles, doesn't mean that I am inferior to you in any way! But that will probably never get in your arrogant egoistic airhead!"

"Say that again!" Malfoy threatened.

"My pleasure! You are an arrogant stupid egoist! ...Now imagine _you_ being Muggle- born and _me_ being pureblood!"

"How dare you?" Malfoy had unconsciously brandished his wand angrily. The mere thought, _he_, Draco Malfoy, could have been born a Muggle- child, seemed to be an incredible insult to him.

"Put it away. It won't do you any good," Hermione said surly.

"Watch your mouth, Mudblood!"

„In contrast to you I always know, what I'm saying. And in contrast to you I'm no spoiled brainless Slytherin!"

Malfoy took a threatening step towards Hermione, until –

"HA! Gotcha!" She dashed around Malfoy, who was now standing in the middle of the shed, and blocked the door.

"Granger! You – "

"Here is your trunk. I'll bring you something to eat to dinner. Bye!" She placed the trunk into the shed, slipped out and closed the door. Malfoy was calling something from the inside, when she locked the door.

Hermione turned around and walked back to the house. She couldn't believe it. Draco Malfoy was caged in her garden shed. She only hoped that he wouldn't blast it up in his anger.

„I have to go to the practise tomorrow, then to the bank. Don't be surprised if I'm not here for breakfast," Mrs. Granger said.

The family was having dinner. Hermione took one slice of bread after another and buttered them – until her plate was full. Her parents eyed the pile of bread astonished. "Hermione? Is everything alright?"

"Sure. I just thought I'd go eat outside tonight."

"That much?" her father asked.

"Well, you know, with fresh air my appetite will be twice as big." Hermione stood, took the plate and walked out of the kitchen.

"Twice?" her father murmered. "More like thrice."

Hermione was not sure herself if it wasn't too much indeed, but she knew from Ron, how much boys this age could engulf. She grabbed two water bottles and left the house.

It was still bright and pleasantly warm outside. Hermione went to the shed, unlocked the door, opened it and walked in with the plate.

"Finally!" Malfoy burst out. He snatched at the bread.

Hermione saw that he tried to make the shed as comfortable as possible. Apparently he had removed dust, cobwebs and dirt from a corner and converted old garden furniture to a bed.

When Hermione grabbed a slice of bread, Malfoy was already eating his second.

„I can't stand it in here anymore. Did it ever come to your mind, how _boring_ it is? I'm seriously supposed to live in here for another three days? I could just as well let myself be killed…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, not again. I already told you, there is no other way."

"Then at least get me a book. Or better two. Or three. Or – "

"What kind of book?"

„_Books_. Plural!"

„Yeah, I got it. What kind?"

„I don't know. Surely you have some books that aren't a drag?"

"My books are not – "

"Yeah, sure."

"Good. I'll bring them tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Merlin, Granger! I'll have died of boredom by then."

Hermione sighed. "I got it."

They ate the breads and Hermione took the plate outside, locking the shed behind her.

"You ate _all_ _of them_?" Mr. Granger called with wide eyes.

"Well… I was hungry," Hermione grinned sheepishly. She placed the plate into the dishwasher and went up to her room.

There she stood in front of her books and contemplated. She had absolutely no idea what she should bring Malfoy. Eventually she randomly grabbed four books and went downstairs again.

„And what are you up to this time?" her mother asked.

"You know, it's so beautiful outside… I'll be reading in the garden." She hurried to the front door.

Mr. Granger examined his wife, frowning. "She wants to read four books tonight?" he asked skeptically.

"You know Hermione," his wife said und together they went to the living room.

"Yes. But _four_ books?"

"Textbook of Charms Volume 1? Great, Granger. Thanks," Malfoy grumbled, when she gave him the books.

"Then you should have told me, what you want to read," she said. She took a seat and opened a book.

"I know that you cherish my presence," Malfoy said, watching her with a mixture of distrust and sneer. "But why are you reading here?"

"Hmm?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Why aren't you reading in your room?"

"Because then my parents would have something more to find funny. I walk out with four books, just to return with one only five minutes later… Though they are Muggles, it doesn't mean that they are completely dumb, you know."

„Aha," Malfoy murmured. He opened one of the water bottles Hermione had brought him. While he drank, Hermione raised her head and peeked over the edge of her book. "Malfoy… don't you ever have to… go to the loo?"

„No."

„What? How – "

„Well, you asked a dumb question, so you get a dumb answer, Granger. Do you honestly believe you can lock me in here? I can get out, whenever I want to."

"You didn't… in our garden…?" Hermione stuttered. She looked outside worriedly.

Malfoy just grinned – Hermione didn't know if that was a Yes or a No – he put the bottle aside and took a book too.

They sat in the shed and read silently, till the sun was slowly setting.

„I'll better go in now." Hermione got up, placed her book onto the others and walked to the door.

"See you tomorrow."

Malfoy didn't say anything, but pulled out his wand, murmuring "Lumos!", and continued reading.

Hermione locked the door behind her, although she knew that it didn't form an obstacle for Malfoy. But somehow it made her feel better.

When she entered the corridor, she heard the TV in the living room and her parents talking quietly. Hermione continued upstairs and into the bathroom.

Eventually she lay in bed and gazed at the ceiling. Everything was much easier than she had assumed. Malfoy was somehow… pleasant. Though he still called her a Mudblood, but otherwise he had restrained from throwing real insults at her. Maybe, Hermione thought, it had something to do with no Slytherins being around. But surely the main reason was the fear of Voldemort, the death that almost seemed certain, the last year in Hogwarts… probably even a Malfoy had to be exhausted sometime.

When Hermione woke up next morning, she could remember her dream quite vividly.

She had been at Fleur's wedding, though Fleur didn't marry Bill, but Ron, and she, Hermione, had been standing in the crowd and cheered like all the other people, which she only now registered confusedly.

Hermione wondered about it, because Ron had kissed her for the first time on the day of Dumbledore's funeral… They had provided each other comfort on the last days in Hogwarts and somehow it had happened. Only Ginny and Harry knew of it.

But they were barely home, when Hermione found that she only felt deep friendship for Ron and she had been sorry for it. Sorry, because she felt like she had exploited him in times she had nobody else… She didn't know how to behave, when she would be meeting Ron on Saturday…

Hermione yawned and walked to the bathroom sleepily. After a refreshing shower she felt awake enough to have breakfast.

Downstairs in the kitchen she found her father reading a newspaper.

"Morning!"

"Morning, Dad."

Hermione took a seat and began to butter a gem, then one more and another three. Like the day before she placed all of them on a big plate.

Mr. Granger looked at her, though didn't say anything but "See you at noon. I'm going now."

"Okay," Hermione answered. She waited, till she heard the door close, and fetched two glasses out of the closet. Then she waited, until she was sure her father would be sitting in the car. She took the plate, the glasses and a bottle of orange juice and left the house.

She hurried to the shed and opened the door. In the process she missed Mr. Granger shaking his head and getting into his car. For Hermione's attention was focused on something else: Malfoy was still sleeping. He lay sprawled out on the cushions and it was the first time that Hermione saw his hair in a mess. They looked tousled and stuck out in all directions. A very unfamiliar sight.

Hermione left the door open to let the fresh air in and placed the breakfast on the ground. When she looked at Malfoy again, two grey eyes were staring back.

"Morning," Hermione said.

"Hmm," Malfoy grumbled. He straightened up and ran a hand through his hair.

"Damn. I need a bathroom."

"Malfoy, you won't die of not combing and grooming your hair," Hermione said. She grabbed a gem.

"I would like to shower, okay? For one day now I've been stuck in this filthy… thing."

"You can't and you know that," Hermione said.

Malfoy helped himself to a gem too and said: "Aren't your parents at work?"

"Yes, they are, but – "

„Well, then I don't see a problem here."

Hermione thought about it. She could understand him and actually he was right. Her parents were in the practice. What could possibly go wrong?

"Okay, after the breakfast."

They finished eating and then left the led. The sun was shining brightly from the nearly cloudless sky. Hermione sighed. Everything was so peaceful and carefree here, she thought…

"It would be best, if you go right into the bathroom and hurry up, okay?"

Malfoy followed her, until he suddenly stopped in his tracks. "I'm standing in the middle of a Muggle house. _Muggle house_," he detected with incredulous voice.

"Well, aren't you quick- witted? In a moment it will get even better: You will shower in a _Muggle shower_," Hermione said, as if this fact would outrange everything that he had ever done in his life.

She opened the bathroom door.

"The towels are in that cupboard over there. Hurry up."

Malfoy came in and closed the door.

Hermione went to the kitchen and put the juice back in the refrigerator. Then she set to work on clearing the table. She heard the water running in the shower. But then she heard something else. She froze with honey in one hand and jam in the other. She must have been wrong. That couldn't be.

"Hermione?"

Yes, it could. Her mother had just entered the house.

"Hey, Mum. What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

Well, I just wanted to bring the money here. Better than to accidentally leave it at the practice." Mrs. Granger placed an envelope on the kitchen cabinet and then paused.

"Is there someone in the shower?" she asked and listened.

"What? Uh… that's just the bathing water… I'm filling the tub…" It was rapidly getting easier to find excuses, she registered almost shocked.

„Well then, have fun," her mother stepped into the corridor and walked to the front door.

"Bye, Mum!"

Hermione cleared the honey away and sighed relieved.

When Malfoy came out of the bathroom, his hair looked like always – perfect – and he seemed more content.

"Was someone here?" he asked. "It sounded as if you were talking to somebody. Or were you speaking to yourself?"

„Yes, my mother was here," Hermione answered. "Anyway, you better get out now."

"I can't stand it here anymore."

Hermione overheard this remark deliberately.

At lunchtime her parents came home as always. Hermione had decided to eat with them and bring Malfoy some soup afterwards. She feared that it might be gradually getting suspicious, if she was always eating outside.

Hermione didn't notice that her parents looked at her almost expectantly, when she helped herself to the soup. She also didn't see how they changed surprised glances, when Hermione only took a normal serving and instantly started to eat. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Granger said anything.

After Hermione helped her mother clearing the dish, she waited, till she was alone in the kitchen. She filled a bowl with soup as full as she could risk without making a mess. She also took a spoon and a bottle of water with her and sneaked carefully to the front door. When she opened the door and stepped outside, she didn't notice how two pairs of eyes were following her…

"Did your mother say anything else?" Malfoy asked, relieving her of the bowl.

"No, she doesn't suspect – "

"Hermione!"

Before she even had the chance to do something or to find a new excuse, her mother was standing behind her and looked into the shed to Draco.

„Oh, Hermione! I knew it!"

"Mum – "

"But you should have said something! You are seventeen! Do you think we would have objections to you having a boyfriend?"

„Mum, I – what?"

Hermione stared at her mother horror- stricken, as well as Malfoy. Mrs. Granger was smiling at them continuously.

"Sweetheart, I am your mother! You were always sneaking out… well, I don't know, where you were the day before yesterday, but you were always sneaking around here. Do you think, I haven't noticed? Why on earth didn't you say anything? Your boyfriend could have slept in the house."

Hermione was speechless for a moment. She stared at her mother, who was smiling at Malfoy and asked: "Who are you by the way? What's your name?"

"D – "

"Dave Smith," Hermione said quickly. She was not quite sure, if her mother still knew who Draco Malfoy was. After all Hermione had told her of him and his meanness.

"He goes to Hogwarts to. He is in Ravenclaw," Hermione added hastily.

Malfoy just stared at her incredulously. Hermione could understand him perfectly well. It didn't suit her either to have to trick her mother into believing she was going out with Malfoy. But it just seemed easier at the moment than to explain what her worst enemy was doing in the shed.

_Merlin, help me!_

„How long have you two been…?" Mrs. Granger asked. She seemed to be over the moon. She didn't know of Viktor and Ron after all and was all the more happy.

„Uh… we… met after the Christmas holidays last year."

Mrs. Granger shook her head with an incredulous expression and then said: „Now come in. We will add a mattress to Hermione room… come to think of it, why aren't you with your parents?"

Malfoy was speechless. He couldn't answer. His brain had abandoned him. This woman was under the impression that Hermione and he were dating… Hermione's voice was breaking through his thoughts:

"That is a complicated story! No one really gets it. It has something to do with the second cousin of his uncle and his father's aunt and… however. Family fight. Really ugly."

"Well, well. Come in."

Hermione took the books and the soup, Malfoy his trunk and they followed Hermione's mother. Malfoy was throwing Hermione deadly glances, as if it were her fault that Mrs. Granger had come to this false conclusion. _As if I like it_, Hermione thought angrily.

"How long are you staying?" Mrs. Granger asked over her shoulder.

"Till the weekend."

Mr. Granger, who was sitting in the living room, jumped up completely surprised, when Malfoy entered behind his wife and his daughter.

"Darling," Mrs. Granger said, "that's Hermione's boyfriend."

Mr. Granger examined Malfoy from top to bottom. He threw his wife a glance and got the confirmation that this was the reason for Hermione's suspicious behavior. Then he shook hands with Malfoy who introduced himself with a slightly high- pitched voice: "Good afternoon. I am David Smith."

"David? For a moment it had been Dave," Mrs. Granger said frowning. Hermione startled and looked at her parents anxiously, but to her surprise it was Malfoy this time, who came up with an excuse:

"Gr – Hermione calls me Dave… and I call her… Mione…," he said with a strange voice. Hermione was the only one who noticed how much an effort it cost him to call her "Mione". It was already weird to hear him say "Hermione", she thought.

She nodded in agreement.

Mr. Granger looked at his watch. "We have to go now! I'm really sorry… see you tonight!"

„Good. Hermione, you know where the mattress is, don't you?"

Hermione nodded.

„Alright. Then see you tonight."

They walked out of the living room.

When Hermione heard the front door shut, Hermione sighed relieved and sank onto the sofa.

„Sweet Merlin!" Malfoy groaned. "How could it have come so far? They think I'm going out with a Mudblood. _Me… a Mudblood…_!"

„Shut up and eat," Hermione murmured, holding out a plate to him.

After Malfoy had eaten two plates, they went upstairs to Hermione's room.

Only then Hermione discovered how childish her room looked. She spent so little time here that she had never taken the time to arrange it differently. At this moment Hermione was glad that she had never been an I- want- to- be- a- princess- girl and therefore her room didn't have any pink wallpaper, pink curtains and canopy bed.

The wallpaper was light yellow, the curtain red and the bed was wooden like the other furniture and relatively simple. What bothered her the most, was the cohort of stuffed animals sitting on her shelf and staring at Malfoy with big black eyes.

"Nice, Granger, I have always known that you had taste," Malfoy grinned pointing at a white stuffed rabbit with pink ties around the ears.

"I'm going to fetch the mattress and bedclothes. Please don't get up to something."

Hermione went down into the basement. She couldn't quite believe it. Not only was she pretending to be going out with Malfoy, no, _he_ would be sleeping in _her_ room too…

Somehow they conquered the afternoon with Malfoy repeating how terrible the mere thought was to sleep under the same roof as a Mudblood and Hermione replying equally often that she had been in better company as well.

Malfoy also questioned her about the hiding place, but Hermione didn't want to reveal Grimmauldplace yet.

"I think, we are going a little earlier… and when Harry and Ron get there, you stay away first and I will talk to them. When they see you without hearing about it from me, they will probably kill you on the spot."

„Or the other way round."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

In the evening the Grangers returned and had dinner with them. Hermione and Malfoy didn't speak much, while Mr. and Mrs. Granger permanently tried to engage them in a conversation. Without much success.

After dinner they all went into the living room.

Mrs. Granger pulled Hermione aside, while Mr. Granger beckoned Malfoy to take a seat on the sofa.

"Hermione," Mrs. Granger whispered. "You two don't have to act like you don't know each other. You know, we have no problem with it."

Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and tell her the truth. But that would mean to explain way too much and now her mother wouldn't believe that they were only friends or even better enemies anyway.

"Okay, Mum."

"So," her mother said loudly and sat on the sofa – which was now fully occupied.

"Let's have a nice evening together."

She waved to Hermione, who walked to the sofa, until she understood, what her mother had in mind. Throwing a glance to Malfoy Hermione knew at once that they were both thinking the same thing.

"Hermione, sit down. I can't see anything," Mr. Granger murmured, while his wife pressed the remote searching for a channel.

"Where was it again?" she asked.

"17," Mr. Granger answered.

Hermione was slowly walking in Malfoy's direction. She couldn't do that… she could just say that… anything.

"Honey," Mrs. Granger said, staring at them. "I already told you that – "

"Yeah, alright!"

Hermione looked at Malfoy, who returned her glance horrified. "Well, so what?" she thought. Then she sat down on his lap.

She felt him stiffen beneath her, she did too. But her mother was still watching them and so she tried to relax.

_Stay calm. Everything will be alright._

Actually it wasn't too bad. She could make herself really heavy and accidentally bump her elbow into –

"Do you know the film?" her mother asked Malfoy.

He just looked back trying not to seem too shocked and disgusted.

"Seven Days on Kreta?"

Malfoy shook his head lightly.

"Well, I love this film!"

"Seven Days on Kreta?" Hermione repeated distraughtly. It was the worst film she had ever seen… and she had seen it often… very often… with her mother…

"Uh, Dave doesn't really like this kind of film," she said quickly.

"Really? But this ending! When they are both on the beach in the sunset – "

"We are going upstairs," Hermione burst out decisively. She jumped up, called "Night!" and hurried into her room, followed by Malfoy.

"Oh god. God. Oh my god," she murmured under her breath. She didn't know why. Either because of having sat on Malfoy's lap or because her mother wanted to see this horrible movie with her boyfriend – who actually wasn't her boyfriend, but he could have been, well, not _he_, but someone else, Hermione thought confusedly.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she said, then climbed downstairs again.

When she changed clothes, she considered putting on long pajamas, but it was far to warm. So she decided for her nightgown, which was dark blue and knee-length.

She returned to her room trying to ignore Malfoy like always, but somehow that didn't work out so well. She pulled the curtains close and climbed onto her bed.

Malfoy got up, dug something out of his trunk and went to the bathroom.

When he came back, Hermione noticed that he didn't change his clothes. He bent down, opened his trunk and tucked away what Hermione believed to be his toothbrush and other utensils.

Then he straightened up and started to take off his cloak – Hermione had wondered how he could wear it in this weather; he probably didn't want to seem too Muggle- like, Hermione assumed. When she suddenly realized that he was about to pull off his shirt, under which he obviously didn't wear anything else, she blushed furiously and turned her back on him. She stared at the wall and listened. Now he is also taking off his trousers, shoes and socks and laid on the mattress. She could almost feel the grin sprawled over his face.

If Harry and Ron knew that Hermione was sleeping in the same room as _Malfoy_ (a Malfoy only wearing bloody boxers), they would go ballistic…

"I'm going to have nightmares tonight," she murmured.

"Why?" Malfoy asked from the floor.

"Hmm… let me think… maybe because I'm sleeping in the same room as the biggest idiot of Hogwarts?"

"What did I do to you, Granger?"

"Are you serious? You made life miserable for me, Harry and Ron and actually all Gryffindors!"

"Don't tell me, Potty, Weasel and you are innocent."

„You wore Ron down for having not much money. You insulted my family – "

"He also – "

Hermione didn't know, where the sudden anger was coming from, but she wasn't interested anyway.

"You hated Harry for simply being Harry! You spread bloody lies about him in the Daily Prophet – "

"Yeah, that was a good one – "

"You haven't left out one opportunity of insulting me, only because I'm Muggle- born – "

"And a Know- it- all – "

"You lied to everyone, sneaked after us to get rid of Hagrid – "

"That idiot – "

"Stop it! You are so… so…" Hermione was searching for words. All of a sudden she was furious at Malfoy when she thought of the times he tried to torment Hagrid during his lessons. How he had done everything to get Hagrid expelled.

"Such an egoistic, terrible, heartless, arrogant, spoiled Slytherin! You composed this horrible "Weasley is our king"! Merlin, how I hate you for that! You harried Ron in front of the whole school and you knew exactly that this was Ron's biggest weakness! You disgust me!"

Malfoy was silent for a while.

"You hit me."

"And I would do it anytime again," Hermione said, still upset. "And don't act like it had been so awful. First of all it was a long time ago and second nothing serious."

"That's what _you_ think. I was beaten by a girl… by a Gryffindor… by a Mudblood… by _you_!"

"Oh, am I supposed to feel sorry for you?"

"That would be my doom."

"Then it would almost be worth it… night, _Dave_."

"Good night, _Mione_."

"Why are you calling me that?" Hermione hissed.

"You called me Dave. Why?"

"Because… we have to get used to it. If we let something slip in front of my parents, they will be even more suspicious…" she murmured under her breath.

"Hard to believe, but I had the same thought as you, Granger," Malfoy said, sounding like this fact was causing him goose bumps.

„Yes, but your real name isn't Dave!"

"And yours isn't Mione."

"Yes, it is."

"Really? Do Potter and Weasley call you Mione?" Malfoy scoffed. "Or Mioninny?"

"Shut up and go to sleep, Malfoy," Hermione said. She pulled her blanket up to her face.

He was actually silent. So Hermione's thoughts trailed further backwards to the events of the last three days. Although he was lying just a short distance away, she couldn't quite believe, how smoothly her plan had worked out. How simple it had been to talk him into it, how quickly he had agreed…

Somehow her thoughts paused at Narcissa Malfoy. Why hadn't she come too? Would that have been so terrible for her? Hermione decided that she would never get an answer if she didn't ask and spoke with low voice into the silence: "What about your mother?"

"Shut up and go to sleep, Granger," Malfoy repeated her own words and acted like he didn't realize, what Hermione had just asked.

Hermione fell silent.


	4. Back to Number 12

**Chapter 4 – Back to Number 12**

Hermione tried to sleep as long as possible. The point of the plan was very simple: The longer she stayed in bed, the less time she had to struggle with Malfoy. Malfoy didn't seem to mind it either and was also sleeping. Maybe he was just pretending to be sleeping, Hermione didn't know. But it wasn't important anyway.

She was pondering if it was better for her to spend the next days in bed, when she heard Malfoy's voice.

"Tedd? I'm hungry. Tedd?" He mumbled something that sounded like "Where is this damned house- elf?" till he was suddenly sitting upright on the mattress and swearing loudly. "Shit! Graaaanger!"

"What?" Hermione murmured sleepily.

"I wanna eat something."

"Fine!" she replied, not in the least about to stand up.

"Fix me something," Malfoy said.

"Come again? Malfoy, you are bloody seventeen years old! Go in the kitchen and make something yourself!"

"Who the hell do you think I am? I'm not going to walk in some Muggle- kitchen and search for something to eat."

Now Hermione sat up too.

"Then, Malfoy," she said with sweet voice, "tough luck!" And then she lay down again.

"YOU invited me! I'm your guest!"

Hermione snorted. But then she noticed her own stomach growling.

She sighed. "Fine then. You go into the bathroom, I'm going to make breakfast. Then we eat. I go to the bathroom, you clear the dish away."

"I clear – "

" – the dish away. Exactly… you know where the bathroom is?"

When Malfoy came out of the bathroom into the kitchen, he wasn't wearing his coat anymore, but only trousers and a shirt. He sat next to Hermione, who was still in her nightgown, and grabbed a gem.

They ate in silence.

Hermione left Malfoy in the kitchen and went to the bathroom, without much expectation to find the table cleared afterwards.

After showering and drying her hair, she looked into the mirror one last time. It wasn't like she wanted to walk around styled like Lavender or Parvati, but if her hair just weren't that bushy…

When came back to the kitchen, she stopped in the door frame dumbfounded. On the table there was nothing but the spray of tulips her mother used to place there. Malfoy was standing by the window watching a Muggle in the garden next door mowing the lawn.

"Did you – uh – put the honey into the cupboard over there? And the dish into the dishwasher? And the marmalade – "

"Everything is on its proper place, Granger."

„How did you do that?"

Once again she only received a Malfoy- grin as an answer.

Since she got up quite late, it didn't take very long for Hermione's parents to come home for lunch.

"Hi, you two!" Mrs. Granger hung her purse on a hook in the hall.

"Hermione, can you cook the noodles? I will go fetch the sauce out of the freezer. I hope there is enough left."

So they spent the day with eating, doing nothing and going to bed early. The next wasn't any different.

The day after that, Saturday, Hermione already got up at eight in the morning. She stretched, yawned and wondered why she was still so tired despite all the sleep.

"Malfoy?" she said.

No answer.

„Malfoy? Are you awake?"

Nothing.

„_Malfoy!_" She got up, pulled the curtains open and called him again.

"What!" he growled eventually.

"I'm going shopping now. I don't assume you want to come along?"

"Shopping? Shopping for what?" Malfoy asked, looking at her sleepily.

"We are meeting Harry and Ron at noon. And at that place we are going to we will need something to eat. For that I have to go shopping. In a Muggle- supermarket," Hermione explained shortly.

„Where the devil are we going?" Malfoy asked almost panicky. The thought that there wasn't even something to eat didn't seem to appeal to him at all.

Hermione grinned. "You will like it. So, I will be back soon. Please don't get up to anything. It's the best, if you just go back to sleep."

Hermione left the house fifteen minutes later. She hoped that it was the right decision to leave Malfoy by himself. But eventually she decided that there were more Muggles at the supermarket whom he could harm. And if that was to happen, Ministry people would show up and _that_ was something she couldn't use right now.

When Hermione had closed the garden door behind her, she turned left. It was a walk of more than ten minutes. She barely saw anyone on the street, only a few older ladies walking their dogs.

Hermione arrived at last and fetched a shopping trolley. She got food in tins and bags, fruit, vegetables, bread, gems, breakfast spread, milk and cornflakes. She didn't care about the life period, because there were several useful charms to take care of that. Then her trolley was packed from top to bottom and so she headed towards the cash point.

When she eventually faced four full, heavy bags, Hermione wished Malfoy would have come with her. How was she supposed to carry them all home? Except for… She looked around. Nobody was watching her. Everyone was busy with their own purchasing. As inconspicuously as possible she pulled out her wand murmuring something and then took all four feathery bags and left the building. Now that she was seventeen, she didn't have to fear the Ministry of Magic anymore.

She strolled back happily.

At home she packed her trunk noticing soon that it was too small. Much too small. She was planning to take enough books with her after all, because they had to be prepared for anything. So she had to help herself out with magic for the second time this day. She magnified the inside of her trunk, after which everything was fitting in without much problem.

It was finished around twelve o'clock. In half an hour her parents would come home. They had promised to hurry.

But then it was half past twelve and her parents still hadn't showed up. Hermione and Malfoy were sitting in the kitchen with both their trunks und the four bags, waiting.

Hermione sighed.

"We are waiting ten more minutes, then we Disapparate."

Twelve minutes later they were still sitting there.

"If we don't go now, Harry and Ron will arrive before us. We have to Disapparate now," Hermione declared downheartedly. She didn't want to go without having said goodbye to her parents. What, if she will never see them again?

"Let's wait a little longer," Malfoy said with low voice.

Hermione raised her head surprised.

"Believe me… I know what it's like to lose the parents without a proper goodbye," he said, without looking at her. Hermione took it for a reference to his father's arrest… but that was just half the truth.

They sat in silence for a while, until they finally heard the liberating sound of the opening door.

"Hermione? David? Are you still there?" they heard Mrs. Granger ask.

"Yes, Mum!" Hermione called.

Her parents stepped into the kitchen.

"You have to excuse us for being late," Mr. Granger said. "But we couldn't just send our patients away after half the treatment."

"Honey, I wish you wonderful holidays and a successful school year," Mrs. Granger said, enveloping her daughter in a big embrace. Hermione hugged her mother affectionately. In this moment it became clearer than ever that she and her friends were steering towards the finale. From now on they only had one aim: Lord Voldemort's destruction. And no matter what sacrifices they had to made, they would not hesitate. She, Hermione, would risk this to be the last hug of her mother. "I love you, Mum," she said quietly. "Love you too, my darling."

Hermione turned to her father, who was shaking hands with Malfoy, and hugged him too. From the corner of her eye she saw her mother embracing the perplexed Malfoy.

"See you soon! Take care, you two!" Mr. and Mrs. Granger called, when Hermione and Malfoy finally Disapparated. Both were holding Hermione's trunk. Malfoy carried his own suitcase in the other hand and Hermione the bags with the groceries.

"Bye, Mum, Dad."

A few moments later they Apparated in front of Grimmauldplace 12. Hermione quickly brushed a tear out of her left eye, expecting a sneering comment from Malfoy. But it didn't come.

"Where are we exactly?" he asked instead, looking around.

Hermione threw a glance at the house that was now Harry's property. Then it crossed her mind that Malfoy couldn't even see it!

"Oh. Dumbledore was the secret keeper, which means that you can only see it, if you are told by someone – "

"I know how the Fidelius- Charm works, Granger," Malfoy interrupted her impatiently.

"Yeah, well, the former headquarter of the Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter's new property is Grimmauldplace 12!"

Hermione saw in Malfoy's widening grey eyes that he was observing a dark, large house building up in front of him.

Hermione inhaled deeply and climbed up the stone stair towards the front door. She reached for the dirty door knob and opened the gloomy door.

The empty house looked eerie and depressing to her, when she stepped in silently. Hermione pointed her wand at the old chandelier above her head, inflaming it. She looked around. Everything was as she remembered. The light illuminated the dark portraits on the walls, the table and the umbrella stand. She thought of Tonks, who had knocked over the stand so often. Of Kreacher sneaking around and Sirius fuming at the house- elf. She thought of Mrs. Weasley, who had frequently had shouting battles with Sirius' mum…

Now they were alone here. Only the portrait was hanging on the same spot behind the black curtain. At the thought of living almost by herself in this gloomy house Hermione shuddered involuntarily.

She heard Malfoy placing both their trunks onto the dusty carpet.

"Where the hell are we?" he asked. He let his eyes wander over the many snakes that were everywhere to be seen, whether on the chandelier or on the front door, which was now closing.

"This," Hermione said, turning around and trying not to let on the sudden wave of memories, "is the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

"The – _what?_ But how – ? You mean Black? Sirius Black? _Narzissa _Black?"

"Harry inherited the house from Sirius," Hermione explained. "And here is where we will live. No one will suspect us of coming back and besides both Dumbledore and Mr. Black had cast several protection spells on the house. We should be quite safe here."

The initial surprise on Malfoy's face had now given way to the usual mask of indifference. He continued to examine his surroundings.

"Potter of all people," he murmured, shaking his head.

"Okay. It's the best if we leave the trunks here for now. We can see about it later, who is getting which bed room," Hermione decided.

"Are there – "

"There are enough bed rooms. You get your own and me too. Harry and Ron will probably share one. Let's go into the kitchen." She led him to the door at the end of the hall. While she was walking through the room, she was once again gripped by a depressing sadness. Here in this house Sirius' death seemed to be even more horrible than anywhere else. Here he had been confined, condemned to doing nothing at all, trapped with all the memories of his family… and with Snape's provocations…

Hermione opened the door, shaking off these thoughts.

"Phew! Let's start cleaning this room up!" she called, when she saw all the dust lying on table, chairs and cupboards like a thin coat of snow.

"I have not come here to clean up, Granger," Malfoy said incredulously.

"What do you have your wand for? And so it's clear: from now on the four of us will be living here and everyone has to contribute something! Cleaning, cooking, whatever. Be glad that we don't have to resort to Muggle- methods!"

"Granger, I know you will never get this. But I am a Malfoy. I don't clean – "

He fell silent. They listened and now heard voices out in the hall.

"The whole cleaning thing had been a complete waste of time!" That was definitely Ron's voice. "Look at that, man! Dust! Cobwebs! We have to start from the beginning again!"

Hermione wanted to leave the kitchen to speak with them both – but too late. She had barely reached the door, when Ron opened it from outside. Harry was standing right behind him, as always with black disheveled hair and green eyes.

But Hermione saw at once, that the expression in Harry's eyes was still full of pain. She could understand him perfectly well… each time when he had gone off for summer holidays, he had had to watch somebody's death shortly before. First Cedric… then Sirius… and now Dumbledore. Hermione wouldn't have known how to live on with those pictures in her head –

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron called, hurrying in.

Ron seemed to be considering kissing her, when his gaze fell upon the blond boy leaning against the opposite wall. In the same instant both Harry and Ron had pulled out their wands.

"MALFOY!" Ron yelled. He raised the wand and opened his mouth to cast the first curse on Malfoy that came to his mind, when Hermione hastily stepped in front of him.

"No! Ron, Harry, it's alright!"

"Alright! Hermione, what did he do to you?" Ron was looking with stunned expression from Hermione to Malfoy and back again. Then he rushed forward and grabbed Malfoy's collar. Malfoy was tall, taller than Harry, but with Ron he couldn't keep up.

"I can explain everything," Hermione said hastily.

"Explain?" Harry asked. His face showed an incredulous expression. "What is there to explain? What did he threaten you with?"

"Potter," Malfoy said. He was still completely relaxed despite of Ron, who was still scowling at him angrily. "Why should I press Granger into me sitting in the same house as _you_? And Weasley, take your hands off."

"How would I know? It's not like I ever understood you!"

"Please, Harry, listen to me. I asked him to come along," Hermione said quickly, before Malfoy could reply anything.

Her friends looked at her dumbfounded. "You asked him?" Ron ground out. He let go of Malfoy, who brushed over his cloak with a disgusted face.

"Asked? Malfoy?"

"Listen. It's the best, if we sit down and I tell you everything, alright?"

"And he said yes? He has jinxed you! Manipulated your brain! Poisened you!" Ron obviously hadn't heard one word of what Hermione just said.

She pulled him to the table and pushed him onto a chair. Harry followed them. He was still clasping his wand tightly, ready to curse Malfoy.

Hermione looked at the Slytherin warningly who also sat down with the typical mixture of elegance and boredom.

"So," Hermione said, relieved that Ron had calmed down a little. "Where should I start… well… I thought… Malfoy could know something important. So I went to him – "

"You just walked into Malfoy Manor?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Floo pulver," Malfoy said.

"_What!_ Hermione! You could have been dead the moment you got out of the fireplace!"

"Just what I said," Malfoy joined in. He earned himself an angry look from Hermione and a slightly surprised one from Harry. Ron was still staring at him appalled.

"Yes… never mind. I thought, because he couldn't kill Dumbledore," Hermione tried not to give away the trembling in her voice, „and because he got his sorrow of his chest in front of Myrtle…" This time it was Malfoy, who threw her a dirty glance. "… I thought that he might not be completely lost yet."

Malfoy snorted.

Ron called: "Completely lost? Hermione! This is Malfoy! Draco Malfoy! He almost killed me and Katie and Dumbledore! And… and Harry's nose! He is, except for You- know- who, our biggest enemy! He has always been! He can't change! He has somehow tricked you! It's the best, if we cook his goose right away!"

"Weasley," Malfoy said impassively. "You say I can't change? You say I have always been like this? I would like to see you if your parents had the names Black and Malfoy! If you were born into one of the oldest pureblood Slytherin- families! If your father fell for the Dark Arts! If you learned nothing else but that you are better since the day you could to speak! Better than anyone! I would like to see you being raised to be a future Death Eater by your parents!"

Malfoy had spoken quietly, but fiercely, never letting Ron out of his sight. Hermione was more than surprised by this little speech. She wouldn't have thought it possible to ever hear something so personal from Draco Malfoy. He seemed to have pondered a lot lately…

„By the way, that doesn't mean that I object to my ancestry, my parents, my ideals or my honor," he added warningly.

Ron stared at him stunned.

"I…"

"There is no escape, as long as you don't get to know the other side. If no one ever opens your eyes, you live on believing that what you are doing is right. But it is not easy to let your eyes be opened. It is not easy to learn that killing people is nothing you can call a hobby or privilege."

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't avert their eyes once. Neither of them had ever heard him talk like that. Neither of them had really considered him to be a result of his environment. It was no excuse, but it was an explanation.

They didn't say anything and so he continued:

"My mother wanted to shield me from everything. She didn't want me to get in danger… for the first time she had acted against my father's or the Dark Lord's orders… Snape had tried to talk me out of it, _he_ wanted to take credits himself. I carried on anyway. My attempts failed and soon I didn't know anymore if I let them fail deliberately. And then Dumbledore had talked to me on the tower – and I couldn't kill him.

I became aware that I wasn't able to take other people's lives. I escaped with Snape. The Dark Lord was extremely angry. He promised me and my mother to kill us, but before that he wanted to tantalize us, plaque us, to frighten off future Death Eaters from a behavior such as mine or my mother's. He sent us to Malfoy Manor and gave us two weeks to live. He knew we wouldn't run.

I thought for a long time and decided that it was right to be killed by the Dark Lord. For I was no longer on his side… And then Granger came along. She persuaded me. I went with her. The last days I have spent on a mattress in her room." On the last sequence he couldn't help but throw Ron a meaningful glance.

Silence. Harry and Ron tried to process the flood of information. Tried to understand, what Malfoy was saying.

It was Hermione, who broke the quietness with a question, which had just come to her mind.

"Malfoy… if you are on our side now… why are you still calling me… Mudblood?" She sounded more uncertain than she had planned.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

If Malfoy was surprised, he didn't let it show. He grinned lightly and said: "It's hard to separate from habits… besides I'm still a Malfoy. But by the way, when have I called you Mudblood today or yesterday?"

"You have said it before."

"I know, Granger."

"You – "

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" Harry, Hermione and Malfoy flinched. Ron had obviously found his voice again.

"You slept in the same room as _him_! He could have killed you! Or… or…" Ron stuttered furiously. (At that moment Hermione was really glad that Ron didn't know what she and Malfoy had pretended in front of her parents.)

"That could all be a cunning plan! You- know- who had told him what to do! He knows how to do that! He also managed that Ginny… the diary…! I don't believe him!"

"I couldn't care less what you believe, Weasel!" Malfoy snapped.

"Stop it!" Harry called harshly. He had contained himself so far, but now he turned to Ron: "Voldemort wanted to kill him. That is the only explanation. No one could have suspected that Hermione would show up and if Malfoy were a committed Death Eater, he would have cursed, killed or brought her to Voldemort at once. I… believe him."

Hermione and Malfoy glanced at Harry surprised. Hermione exhaled relieved. If Harry trusted them, there would hopefully be fewer problems. Once again she couldn't believe how smooth everything worked out…

"But Harry! He… You… that's impossible!"

"Ron, we are in a threesome. If we discover that he lied to us, we off him," Harry said.

Malfoy snorted incredulously.

"So," Hermione said hastily. "Is everything settled? I think we should clean up and then eat something. Alright?"

They had recounted the events only shortly, but Hermione thought it better not to strain Ron's nerves any further by telling them details.

So they started to clean the bathroom and the kitchen with cleaning charms and filled the cupboards with the groceries. During the whole process Ron threw Malfoy suspicious glances that Malfoy always answered with a superior grin, which caused Harry and Hermione to exchange worried looks. But everything went well.

When they had finished with the kitchen, Harry showed Malfoy his bedroom. He was to sleep to the right of Ron and Harry. Hermione would spend the night in the room on their other side. They freed these rooms from dust too and stashed their trunks. Finally they all met in the kitchen where Hermione was already warming a soup out of a tin.

They ate in a tense mood and were sitting there silently, till Harry eventually addressed the question why they were here in the first place.

"I think we should summarize again, what we know. So Malfoy can get a picture of what's going on."

Ron wanted to protest, but Hermione prodded him with her elbow. Ron looked at her angrily. It wasn't hard to see, that he felt awfully betrayed. And Hermione couldn't blame him.

"Voldemort has made Horcruxes to – "

"I know," Malfoy interrupted bored. "Snape let it slip out, when he argued with Bellatrix."

Harry raised an eyebrow surprised, but didn't say anything about this news.

"The first Horcrux, the diary, has been destroyed. The second, Marvolo's ring, too. The third, Slytherin's locket, has been stolen from R.A.B." Harry told Malfoy shortly about the fake- Hocrux and the letter. "One piece of Voldemort's soul is still in Voldemort's body. But we don't know whether he has seven including or excluding it. That means there are either three or four more to go."

"Five… Snape said that nobody knows, where the other five are," Malfoy threw in.

"Five?" Harry repeated confusedly.

"That means, there are three missing," Hermione said.

"Eh?" Ron asked bewilderedly. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"I assume," Hermione said, "that Snape knows that the diary had been destroyed. Besides I think that Snape didn't include the piece of soul within Voldemort's body. He knows that there are five more hidden somewhere. That's seven. Minus two destroyed Horcruxes, one that is either destroyed or lost and the one in Voldemort's body, there are three left. And I believe that they are also kept in items of the Founders."

There was pure confusion on Ron's face, while he tried to follow Hermione's calculation.

"Weasley," Malfoy said with his usual arrogant voice. "Granger thinks, five hidden plus diary plus the one in the Dark Lord's body, altogether seven Horcruxes."

"That means we have to find out the truth about the locket, search for Hufflepuff's cup and something of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."

"Maybe the sword?" Ron asked. "It's the only item of Gryffindor that I know of."

"Hmm… I don't know where Fawkes or the Sorting Hat got it from. It's possible…" Harry murmured.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the afternoon laughing and talking in the kitchen, while Malfoy checked out the house.

Hermione noticed despite of the high spirits that Harry was gloomy. He tried not to let it show, but Hermione knew exactly how hard it was for him to be in his godfather's house again. Besides there were all the things, which weighed him down. The people he had lost and the certainty that it would soon be decided whether he could conquer Voldemort or whether he would die and leave the world to the shadows…

Hermione tried over and over to shoo the thoughts, but when Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch, her mind drifted away and she found herself staring at the black- haired boy…

In the evening Malfoy joined them and they had dinner. Then they left the kitchen to go to bed, although it wasn't very late yet.

When Hermione, Ron, Malfoy and Harry crossed the hall towards the stairs, which led to their rooms, Hermione call out for Harry.

"Harry?" He paused and turned around. Malfoy and Ron walked ahead.

"I just wanted to thank you for not going ballistic… and for believing him."

Harry laughed. "I suppose we would just do Voldemort's bidding, if we didn't even try to forgive Malfoy. For that is exactly what _he_ can't: forgive," he said and somehow Hermione was reminded of Dumbledore.

"Although… I haven't forgiven him yet. I will probably never be able to do that… and whether he was telling the truth, I don't know either… but if we keep an eye on him, we will find out… we have to risk it, don't we?"

Hermione nodded.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked after a short silence.

Harry shook his head, smiling sadly.

"I don't think…"

"You know that Ron and I are always there for you, Harry."

"I know."

Together they climbed up the dimly lit staircase.

"Good night," Hermione yawned.

"You too," Harry said, opening the door to his bedroom.

Hermione walked to her own and stepped in.

She changed clothes and lay in her bed. She looked around in the darkness and felt oddly uncomfortable. The last time she had shared a room with Ginny, but now she was all alone. She was just considering to read for a while, when there was a soft knock on the door.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, before she called "Yes?"

The door opened. Someone came in.

It was Ron.


	5. Narcissi, lilies and petunias

**Chapter 5 – Narcissi, lilies and petunias **

"Hermione?"

Ron slowly stepped into her room. Hermione noticed at once that he was worried and nervous when he sat down at her bedside.

"Can I… talk to you?"

"Sure…" Hermione already had a vague idea what the talk would be about.

"You know… here's the thing…" Ron was staring at his hands and searching for the right words.

"I… you… when we…" He paused, took a deep breath and looked at Hermione.

"I just don't know what to think. What to _feel_, you know? I… I… we were friends for such a long time, but now, I don't know… I think… I like you… more…" He was sitting there helplessly, trying to express his feelings, and seemed to be shrinking. Hermione felt guilt rising up in her. What was she supposed to do? She didn't want to hurt Ron, on no account, but how?

"It's just… at home I missed you both, you and Harry. But with you it was different somehow…"

"Ron…"

"After what happened at Hogwarts… when we… you know… I know you and I know you would never do anything like that, if it weren't for real. And I'm serious about it too, Hermione." Finally the tension dropped off Ron and he searched for eye contact with her. Hermione shuddered. Why did it have to be so complicated? Why did Ron have to… fall in love with her after six years? Why now? Why not earlier, when Hermione had had feelings for him… in their fourth year…

"Ron, I…" She gulped and looked at him sadly.

"I… I'm not… serious about it…" It was nothing more than a whisper in the stretched silence the room was filled with.

Ron's face turned incredulous.

"I'm so sorry, Ron, I don't know, how it could have happened. You are my best friend. You two, you and Harry, are my best friends. I don't want it to change. I _can't_ change anything about it."

"But two weeks ago, you… you…" Ron stuttered, apparently slowly realizing what she had just said.

"I already said, I don't know, how it happened. I'm sorry… it was just the situation…"

Ron frowned and his face was even paler than before.

"Hermione, you did it just like that? You kissed me just like that?"

„No, Ron. Not just like that… I can explain!"

"You… you… I can't believe it!"

"What about Lavender? Did you love her?" Hermione called.

"That has nothing to do with it!"

"Yes, it has! You can't blame me, as long as you are no better!"

"You… how can you do something like that?" Ron exclaimed, while his face was slowly reddening.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione said meekly. "What do you want me to do? I'm not doing it on purpose, but I can't change my feelings, Ron. You understand?"

"You…"

"Think about Harry. He didn't say anything about it, but I think he would even feel more alone, if we both were… together."

Ron gulped.

"Well…see you tomorrow then. I think I'll stop by the kitchen and eat an apple," he murmured, standing up.

"Good night," Hermione whispered gloomily.

When the door closed behind Ron, Hermione sank back onto her pillow, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully.

She sighed. She really hurt him and blamed herself for letting it get this far. Why hadn't she thought about it, before whipping up Ron's hopes? Ron was right. Since when did she do something like that, without being serious about it?

Don't be mad at me, Ron. Please don't, she begged inwardly. She was deeply worried that Ron would perhaps refuse to talk to her.

She rolled on her side, searching for a book under her bed to distract herself from the gloomy thoughts. Usually there would be her books, always ready to hand, if she wanted to read in the night. This time the only thing her fingers encountered was the cold carpet. She had forgotten to unpack her books.

Hermione climbed out of the bed. She rummaged in her trunk and pulled out "Find out the truth: Curses and Potions unveiling secrets". Actually she didn't intend to uncover the Malfoys' darkest secrets, but she took great interest in the book nevertheless. She had bought it in Diagon Alley shortly after the holidays began.

Hermione had barely read the first passage of the preface, when she heard yelling from downstairs. It was definitely Ron's voice. She didn't understand, what he was calling, but she could imagine all too well, whom he was shouting at.

Rolling her eyes, she placed the book under the bed and stood up. She left her bedroom quickly and ran down the stairs.

When she arrived in the hall, she heard Ron yelling with might and main: "TAKE IT BACK, FERRET!"

"_Who is there?"_ another voice beside Hermione called. Hermione flinched and turned around. The repulsive portrait of Sirius' mother had appeared behind the curtain and screamed: _"You! The Mudblood is here again! Who else? Who are the others? Blood traitors!"_

Hermione ignored her and went into the kitchen hastily.

Malfoy and Ron were standing opposite each other, wands raised. Ron was yelling loudly with red face, while Malfoy answered in normal volume and with almost sparkle- spraying eyes. Behind her Hermione could still hear the portrait's screaming.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU DID!"

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm all ears, Weasel!"

"_Filthy mob!"_

"DON'T EVER SAY THAT AGAIN!"

"No matter how loudly you are yelling, Weasel, I'm not letting _you_ shut me up."

"YOU… you… you want to get us all killed!" Ron raged.

"Not all of you. But if you continue to behave like that – "

"_Stop it, both of you!_" Hermione intervened sharply.

Both boys turned to her. Their surprised faces told Hermione that they hadn't noticed her just until now. Ron seemed slightly hurt, when he looked Hermione in the eye, but he acted like nothing had happened.

"What is going on here?" a voice behind Hermione asked.

Hermione stepped aside to let Harry step into the kitchen.

"Malfoy insulted me," Ron said promptly.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Mummy, the mean boy insulted me!"

"Stop it! Both of you!" Harry called irritated. "So, what was going on?"

"I wanted to get an apple, when Malfoy came. He insulted me, called me a Weasel and – "

"Didn't you forget something?" Malfoy interrupted. "YOU told me that you don't trust me a bit and that you would find out what I'm up to sooner or later, because I'm a filthy, little – "

"YOU pulled your wand first."

"At the same time as you."

"YOU – "

"_Stop it!"_ Hermione called loudly.

"Look, we are living together now. It can't end like this every time with you both about to curse each other! You have to pull yourself together!" Harry said, trying to stay calm.

"It's the best, if you go upstairs. Go."

Ron threw Malfoy a deadly stare and marched past him out of the kitchen.

For a moment there was silence apart from Mrs. Black's screaming.

Harry also turned around and crossed the hall, followed by Malfoy and Hermione. He stopped in front of the portrait and grabbed the curtain, but at that moment Mrs. Black fell silent, turning her gaze to Malfoy.

"_Who is this? I have never seen him before… yet he looks familiar to me,"_ she said. Her eyes widened.

"That's Draco Malfoy," Harry said coldly.

"_Draco Malfoy? You are Lucius and Narcissa's son!"_ Mrs. Black said, suddenly smiling most diabolically. _"You are here to free my house from this scum, aren't you? How is Narcissa?"_

At these words Malfoy's face turned to stone. He stared at the woman speechlessly, till he turned to Harry and Hermione, asking: "Who is she?"

"Sirius' mother," Hermione explained.

She and Harry pulled the curtain close with enormous effort, before the woman behind it could say another word.

The next morning Hermione was woken up by a loud knock on her door.

"She simply doesn't hear me," Ron said behind the door.

"Then go in." That was Harry.

A moment later the door opened slowly and Ron's head appeared.

"Hermione! You are already awake! We should have breakfast now."

"Alright," Hermione yawned.

When she came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Harry and Ron were standing in front of another door, namely Malfoy's, pondering if they should wake him up.

"I'm not going in there!" Ron said, raising his hands in defense.

"Me neither!" Harry replied quickly. They both turned to Hermione.

"He will wake up sooner or later," she said hastily. "We can go into the kitchen and set the table ready."

Harry and Ron agreed, nodding eagerly, and climbed down the old staircase.

They stepped into the kitchen, eyes widening. The blond Slytherin was sitting at the table and staring into thin air. He didn't even spare them one glance.

Harry and Ron imitated him and went to the cupboards to set the table.

Hermione tried a reconciliatory "Morning."

Malfoy didn't show any reaction.

_BANG!_

Hermione spun around, looking at Harry. He was standing by the cupboard, shards at his feet, pressing a hand against his forehead.

"Harry! What's the matter? Is it… the scar?" Hermione called. She hurried to him.

Harry was breathing heavily, while he staggered towards the nearest chair.

"I'm… I'm fine," he panted. "It was just…"

"_He_ has discovered that I'm not there," a voice on the other side of the table said.

Hermione looked at Malfoy and only now did she notice that his grey eyes held a mixture of bitterness, sadness and remorse. At that moment she understood. Today was the day…

"Voldemort!" she breathed. "He came!"

"What?" "Where?" Harry and Ron were shouting panically. Ron searched each corner of the room with his eyes, as if expecting to find Voldemort himself lurking there.

"Malfoy Manor," Hermione said.

"And your mother – "

"AARGH!" Harry yelled. His face was twisted in pain. His scar was burning. He squinted and pressed his lips together to suppress further cries. His arms twitched convulsively and Hermione held onto him. As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. There were beads of sweat on Harry's forehead. His green eyes were searching for Malfoy's grey ones.

Malfoy's face was showing blank horror.

"He… he did it," he whispered.

Ron, looking horrified, also dropped his plate into the silence.

"Should we… do you want to…" Hermione began in a low voice, without really knowing what to say. But she had no chance to give it more thought, for Harry had suddenly stood up. He was staring at Malfoy angrily and hissed quietly: "Now you know what it's like to lose your parents!"

"Harry!" Hermione called appalled and confusedly.

"Now you won't comment on my parents anymore!"

"Harry, what – "

"NOW YOU DON'T HAVE PARENTS ANYMORE!" Harry yelled so suddenly that Hermione flinched.

Malfoy's eyes widened.

"Your whole life you have been pampered and spoiled! While you made fun of my parents! Now yours are gone!" Harry shouted, his voice full of hate. His eyes were burning almost… almost red…

Malfoy's face now showed an expression, which Hermione couldn't read.

He stood up slowly and said with throaty voice: "Until two weeks ago I haven't had any parents."

Silence, crackling silence, surrounded him, when he left the kitchen. They heard his steps fading away.

"Harry…" Hermione whispered shocked. "Harry, why did you do that?"

Harry's face was still grimaced with rage. Only when his gaze met Hermione's eyes, his shoulders dropped. He sank down onto a chair, burying his face in his hands.

He sat there like that for a while. Ron and Hermione didn't know what to say, but only exchanged worried glances.

Finally Harry raised his head again. Hermione couldn't see his face, when he spoke, but she could tell by his voice that he was ashamed of what he had done. Of what he had said.

"I… I… didn't want to… didn't know…" He paused. "Suddenly there was this anger, this rage… I didn't know why," he stuttered.

Hermione sat next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Harry."

She thought for a moment and vocalized her guess: "Were they… Voldemort's feelings? Like back then… when you laughed, only it had been Voldemort who was happy?"

Harry nodded.

Ron murmured "Reparo!" and the shards on the floor pieced together again.

After a few moments of silence Hermione stood up.

"I'll tell Malfoy that you didn't mean it," she informed Harry and Ron and slowly went out of the kitchen.

She climbed up the stairs and knocked on Malfoy's door.

Hermione received no answer which she found comprehendible. After short hesitation she opened the door cautiously and said: "I'm sorry that…"

The room was empty.

Hermione stood rooted to the ground for a moment, before she turned around and moved on. She didn't know where to look for him, so she just tried her luck in some rooms.

Fortunately it didn't take long for her to find the blonde. He was standing in the saloon and, as Hermione soon noticed, in front of the tapestry with the Blacks' family tree.

She slowly approached and stood beside him. Malfoy showed no reaction, but continued to stare at a spot on the tapestry.

Hermione followed his eyes and inhaled sharply.

There was written in neat letters:

_Narcissa Black_

and underneath

† _11.07.1997_

"Harry didn't mean to… he…" Hermione explained with low voice that Harry could sometimes feel things through the connection to Voldemort that weren't his own.

"He really didn't mean to. It – " She didn't continue, for Harry had just appeared at her side.

"Listen, Malfoy, I really didn't – " His eyes widened suddenly. He stared at the tapestry as if mesmerized. Hermione first thought that he had discovered Narcissa's date of death, but then she registered that his glance was riveted on a different name.

On the name _Regulus Black._

"Alphard," Harry murmured.

"Come again?" Hermione asked, throwing Harry a perplexed gaze.

"Alphard! Regulus Black! R.A.B. is Regulus Alphard Black!" Harry called triumphantly, suddenly grinning widely.

"Harry, what are you talking about?"

"Sirius' brother Regulus! He was killed by Voldemort, when – "

"How do you know it's Alphard?" Hermione asked confusedly.

"That's his uncle's name," Harry explained, pointing at a spot on the tapestry, where there had once been _Alphard Black_.

"Yes, Harry. But doesn't mean that Regulus is _the_ R.A.B.! He didn't seem to have been the sharpest tool in the box," Hermione said doubtfully.

"Who else could it be? He must have found out by accident that there are the Horcruxes. And perhaps he only told Sirius half of the truth… Sirius had said that he had got cold feet and wanted to back out, which is why he was killed. But what if he didn't only want to back out, but even planned to put an end to all of it? What if he has the locket? Hermione! Maybe it's _here_!" Harry called, turning his head, as if checking whether Slytherin's locket was lying around somewhere.

"But Harry – "

"In the letter it is said that he, R.A.B., would be dead, before Voldemort reads it. He wrote that he wanted Voldemort to know who has disclosed the secret of the Horcruxes. Maybe it was someone, whom you wouldn't expect it from. Someone like Regulus," Harry assumed.

"Harry, I don't think that Regulus would be able to do something like that. Just think about how young he must have been and – "

"That's no reason," Malfoy interrupted surprisingly. "Just as little as Regulus not being the sharpest tool in the box. The best example for both would be Potter. In school he has generally been average and nevertheless accomplished to save mankind from evil." Despite the taunting undertone he was undeniably right.

Harry needed a few seconds, till he turned to Hermione and grinned triumphantly: "You see?"

Hermione shrugged.

"We should tell Ron about your discovery."

They found Ron in the kitchen, where he was preparing breakfast for all of them. This fact earned him three surprised glances, which he didn't seem to notice.

"Ron!" Harry said. "We now know who R.A.B. is!"

"Rab? What? _Who?_"

Harry quickly explained his assumptions, which hadn't quite convinced Hermione yet.

"And you think the Horcrux could be here?" Ron asked excitedly, taking a bite from a gem.

"Maybe. I just hope Sirius hasn't thrown it away, if it had been here at all."

"Shhh," Malfoy hissed suddenly. "Do you hear that?"

They all listened. From the distance they heard a quiet knock, which seemed to come from the hall.

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged perplexed looks. They pulled out their wands and tiptoed out of the kitchen with Malfoy.

"It is coming from the outside," Harry whispered. "Someone is knocking on the door."

They positioned themselves in front of the door and Harry took a step forward. Tensed and with raised wands they watched him slowly opening the door.

Harry only managed to say "Wha – ?", before a little owl flew inside through the door crack.

Four pairs of eyes followed it, while it scooted around swiftly and then headed for Harry to get rid of the letter on its leg.

On the envelope there were written the neat letters _Harry Potter_.

Harry unfolded the letter. He scanned it, while his face went through all kinds of emotions. Then he gave it to Ron and Hermione, shaking his head.

_Harry,_

_first of all you have to know that I have pondered for a long time, whether and how I should send you this letter. I'm now with Mrs. Figg, who promised to find a bird to bring it to you._

_I think we will never meet again and so I would like to tell you several things. You are my sister's son after all._

_I don't know what happened exactly, but I'm aware that Voldemort has resurrected and that your life is linked with his. I don't know what you will do or what you will have to go through, but I'm certain that Lily would have been proud of you, no matter what. She loved you so much and was so afraid that something would happen to you._

_I have never been able to forgive her for being the only witch in our family. By now I'm glad about it, for my only worries are my household, my husband and my son (they don't know about this letter). _

_I think I can't even imagine what your life is like. I only know how terrible Voldemort was and apparently is now. While I had daily been charmed by my son and pleased about my clean kitchen, Lily had to fight a war, which I barely noticed. Rarely did I ask myself whether I should help her in some way. I didn't do anything. Up until the day she was murdered and you were lying on our door mat. We took you in and tried you drive out the magic in you. You know the reasons. But I believe there was the tiny, but existing hope within me that you would not share your mother's fate. Now that very same has happened. You are experiencing a war in this different world too._

_Harry, go to your parents' house. I'm sure it would help you in some way._

_Lily once told me that you would always find help at their house, should you lose your parents. I don't know what she had meant by it. You will find out, if you visit your old home, I'm sure of it._

_I wish you every success in your world, even if I'm from now on only living in my own and will not spare a thought to another one._

_Petunia_

When Hermione and Ron had finished the letter, they gave it back to Harry.

"What is that supposed to mean? Help in Godric's Hollow?" Ron asked perplexedly.

"Why did your aunt write to you? I thought she hated you!" Hermione said and looked at Harry inquiringly.

Harry's eyes were fixed on the letter again.

"I don't know," he said. "I'm as surprised as you. I didn't even know that she could write like this… in this manner… you know? She is not the type for that… I wonder… well, never mind…"

"So we'll go to Godric's Hollow soon?" Ron said.

Harry nodded. "We would have done anyway, even without the letter."

"What is that?" Ron suddenly asked, bending down.

When he got up again, he was holding a slightly crumpled picture in his hand.

"It must have fallen out of the letter," he murmured, giving it to Harry.

Harry took the photo and stared at it for a long time. Eventually he turned away and gave it to Hermione, who saw at once that it was a Muggle- picture. There were two girls on it, standing in front of the house on a green lawn, laughing.

Hermione assumed that they were both about ten years old, carefree and jolly. The left girl had blond shoulder-length hair, the right one long red hair and bright green eyes. There was no doubt that these were the sisters Petunia and Lily. Hermione flipped the picture over and noticed that Petunia had left a short message on it.

_It's the only one that I have._

_Now it's yours – and all my memories are gone._

Ron took it out of her hand and asked: "Is that your mum?"

Harry nodded. There was silence, till Ron handed Harry the picture saying: "Yeah… so, should we get on with breakfast?"

Harry nodded again and they turned around to go back into the kitchen, when they noticed that Malfoy wasn't standing behind them anymore.

"Where is he?"

"I think he wants to be alone," Hermione said, while they were crossing the hall. "But I should make sure that he does not do anything stupid…"

Potter unfolded the letter. Draco watched a picture fall out, sinking to the ground slowly.

"My god! It's from Aunt Petunia," Potter gasped, fidgeting around with it.

Draco decided that this was not so important that he couldn't afford to miss it. He turned around slowly and went upstairs into his room.

As soon as the door closed behind him quietly, he felt it.

This horror was slowly crawling through his body, making his arms sink, making him fall to the floor, making him kneel down in desperation. It sneaked forward and forward, until it reached his heart. His heart, which had experienced something like that only rarely, was aching all the more.

It was not the same horror as the one he had felt in Hogwarts. Not the same as the one which had made him spill tears in front of the girl's ghost. This time it went deeper. His heart had not been prepared. How should he have known that it would hurt so much? Who had told him how terrible it was?

No one. No one had cared for his feelings… for his heart… not even himself…

And now he was sitting in this small dark room. Alone. Kneeling on the floor in front of the door, staring onto the grey carpet, while he desperately tried to hang on… to stop the fall… to not let himself be pulled down… into the depth of despair.

No one had ever cared for his feelings? Not for his feelings… but for his life.

His mother… the proud woman at Father's side… had pleaded and begged to protect him, her son… She had asked Snape to save Draco. His life, not his feelings.

She had told him everything in the days at Malfoy Manor. In these days, in which they had been alone. A mother, her son and the certainty of death. Only two weeks ago had she begun to act like a mother. She had cared for him her whole life, but he had never felt any of it… not in this way…

The wife of his father, a Death Eater who didn't even shy away from murder of children, had told him that she had never wanted to let it go this far. That she had never wanted Draco's life to belong to the Dark Lord alone. She had apologized with tear- filled eyes, for her cowardice, her fear, the courage he hadn't mustered to protect her only son.

Draco hadn't answered. This thought was now hitting him like an arrow, piercing him even deeper. He hadn't answered her, when she said that to him.

He hadn't answered her, when she told him that he meant everything to her and that she loved him…

Draco felt a single tear running down his cheek, dripping in slow motion onto his cramped hand.

This tear pained him more than all he had cried in Hogwarts together.

With this tear the horror vanished – and the fury came. The questions. The questions about the Why.

Why hadn't he answered her? Hadn't told her the same? Why hadn't he taken her with him? Had resisted what she had said to him?

He had asked her to come with him so often, but haughty Narcissa Black had refused to flee. She didn't want to flee from the most powerful wizard on earth. She had known that it was her death sentence.

He had known.

Why had he let it happen?

WHY?

He closed his eyes and simply sat there, feeling alone and empty. He probably would have continued to cower on the floor motionlessly, if he hadn't felt a cold gush of air, telling him that someone had opened the door behind him.

He knew who it was.

Hermione took a deep breath before placing her hand on the door handle. There was no sound when she opened the door cautiously.

In there Malfoy was kneeling on the floor, his back turned to her, apparently not having noticed her presence. Never had she expected her to comfort him, Malfoy. But she was Hermione. She was a Gryffindor and didn't want someone, who had just lost his mother, to be alone with his sorrow

She reached out her hand and slowly approached Malfoy's shoulder. She didn't know what to say, so she stayed silent.

The distance was so small that she could have touch his shining hair with her fingers… He raised his head.

"Don't you dare touching me, filthy _Mudblood_." His voice was low and seemed to quiver in anger. Hermione couldn't see his face or his eyes, but she felt a sudden cold emanating from him that made her freeze.

"I… I…" Her words were barely more than a whisper. For the first time she hadn't expected to be called a Mudblood and maybe this was the reason why it hit her even harder than usual.

"Shove off or I swear you will regret it."

* * *

><p>AN: Please tell me what you think so far! Thanks for reading! :D<p> 


	6. Listen to me carefully

**Chapter 6 – Listen to me carefully**

"Shove off or I swear you will regret it."

Hermione was motionless for a moment. Malfoy was still kneeling on the floor, his back turned to her, head raised and almost shaking in fury.

Hermione didn't understand this anger. But she slowly backed out of the room and closed the door.

For a few moments she remained in front of his room and listened. There was no sound to be heard.

She had to admit to herself that she had secretly hoped he finally stopped calling her Mudblood, but this wish he probably would never satisfy. He was still him and Hermione didn't care much about it anyway. She hadn't anticipated finding him trembling from rage which had already hit her harder than previous insults. But at this moment instead of being hurt her sympathy simply dominated.

Malfoy stayed in his room for the whole day and Hermione, Harry and Ron were just fine with it.

"The wedding is on the 25th of August. Did I tell you that?" Ron asked after lunch.

Harry and Hermione shook their heads. They were all looking forward to the big celebration next month, where they would finally meet Lupin, Moody and all the others again.

"Well, Mum had originally wanted to celebrate at the Burrow, but Fleur's family didn't. And we found the idea to celebrate in France not too bad."

"In France?" Hermione called excitedly.

"Yeah, near… Orlions or something like that."

"Orléans?"

"Yeah, exactly. Anyway, we thought that it would be safer there and that we could leave everything behind us for a few days," Ron continued. "Of course not everybody. Only the family and you will stay there. I think three days."

"That's wonderful!" Hermione said with sparkling eyes.

"How do we get there?" Harry asked.

"By a Portkey, I think. We Apparate home and use a Portkey from there."

"And who is coming?" Hermione asked.

"Well, several people of the Order, but a couple of them have to stay here, just to be safe. A few of Bill's work colleagues and all the French people," Ron explained, sounding as if he did not like the last bit.

"Is Percy coming too?" Harry wanted to know.

Ron's face darkened, when he said: "Bill went to him to invite him personally, but he rejected it! Can you believe that? Bill wanted to bring the family back together, but Percy, that – " Ron burst into a flood of nasty insults for his brother.

"Ron. Ron! We know, okay?" Hermione interrupted.

" – idiotic dragon dung- like – what? Yeah… uh… fine," Ron ended.

Over the course of the day they pondered about Regulus Black and the Horcruxes, but they simply couldn't come up with an idea that would be helpful.

Eventually Hermione suggested the only thing that came to her mind, which was to search for books with some useful information in the house.

Harry and Ron agreed with her and they decided to start with the search on the next day.

So they spent the day mostly together in the kitchen, talking about French food, Bills hairstyle on the wedding and about who would cry during the marriage ceremony.

They completely neglected Malfoy being upstairs in his room. They also forgot to think about what to do with him during the wedding.

In the evening Hermione was reading in her bed, waiting for Harry and Ron to come out of the bathroom. If she hadn't been Hermione, she would have probably heard one of them and later the other one leave the bath. But she was and soon she was so immersed in the book that she didn't notice the vacant bathroom.

It was not until half an hour later, when she looked at the clock. She sighed, put her book under the bed as always and silently walked into the bathroom.

When she had been here the first time, she had almost been afraid the toilet would transform into a monstrous mouth. But understandably the bathroom was the safest place in the house. The Blacks probably hadn't thought of decorating this room with Muggle- hating objects.

After a short shower Hermione noticed that she had forgotten to take a nightgown with her. She cursed under her breath, deciding to throw over Ron's bathrobe hanging on a hook, apparently forgotten and unused. It is probably unnecessary to mention that it was of maroon color.

When Hermione passed the staircase after leaving the bathroom, she decided quickly to get herself an apple. She walked down the stairs barefooted, crossed the hall, opened the kitchen door – and jerked to a halt.

She should have known. Malfoy hadn't come to the meals the whole day. Of course he would go into the kitchen, when all the others were sleeping.

He was sitting at the kitchen table und looked up from a steaming cup of tea. In front of him on the table there was an empty plate. At least he has fixed himself something, Hermione thought.

Malfoy's glance ran over the brown bathrobe and he scoffed grinningly: "Taken to Weasley's style, haven't you?"

"Shut up," Hermione replied coolly, crossing the kitchen to get an apple, head held high.

"And your hunger also seems to be as big as Weasley's, if you come sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night."

"What do you want?" Hermione asked angrily, examining him. He looked paler than usual and his eyes seemed glassy and tired.

He took a sip of his tea. He did it in a way only aristocratic Muggle or pureblood Slytherins would do. Even this movement seemed to ooze "I am better than your kind". Elegant, arrogant. Hermione snorted lightly.

He didn't seem to bother answering her question and since he wasn't saying anything and didn't insult her either, Hermione dared to ask: "Is everything alright?"

He scowled at once. It was like a shadow crawling over his face, making his eyes blazing even stronger.

I should have known better, Hermione thought, sighing.

"You are hopeless, Granger. Asking me, if everything is alright?" he said calmly.

"You are dumber than I thought. Is that the friendliness and helpfulness of the Gryffindors? Asking someone, who has lost his mother only hours ago, if everything was alright?" His voice was getting louder and he was speaking faster. Hermione just wanted to turn around and run away, since she had no idea what he was getting at and where this was going to end.

"You with your honky- dory- belief! Never has _everything _been alright! And now nothing is alright anymore! Nothing! How dare you even ask me about it?"

"I didn't mean to – "

"You know that not _everything_ is alright!"

"I didn't mean _everything_! You know exactly that I hadn't meant it that way!"

"I don't care how you had _meant_ it! You _said_ it!"

"That's absolutely ridiculous! Everyone says it like that!" Hermione shouted angrily, wondering why on earth he wanted to argue about such a completely unimportant and needless subject. "I just wanted to know if you were alright!"

"Once again," Malfoy drawled dismissively. "It's obvious for everyone that I'm _not_ alright, but Miss Hermione- I- am- this- sweet- Gryffindor- girl- Granger has to prove how caring she is."

Hermione stared at him, shaking her head, and said: "That's just what people do. Just because your manners are so bad, it doesn't mean that the rest of the world is behaving the same way."

Malfoy snorted. "Bad manners? Granger, you are impossible. I spent more time of my life learning good manners, etiquette and politeness than Potter, Weasley and you altogether!"

"Well that's not really apparent," Hermione replied, although she knew that he was right.

"It's not apparent to _you_," Malfoy corrected.

He continued to drink his tea.

In the meantime Hermione wondered if she had the heart to ask about his mother. He would probably not react very friendly, but now she at least had the opportunity.

She worked up all her Gryffindor- courage, cleared her throat and asked: "Why didn't your mother come with you?"

For a moment there was silence. For a moment Hermione thought he was relaxed and wouldn't throw insults at her. Which he didn't.

Instead he flung his tea cup in her direction. Malfoy, trained by Quidditch, threw with such force and precision that the cup would have hit Hermione on the forehead. But the girl ducked on time and heard the china crash against the wall. Hermione was so surprised by her own fast reaction that she only noticed a few moments later that Malfoy wasn't sitting on his chair anymore. His face was full of hatred and his body seemed to tremble.

"YOU DARE TALKING ABOUT HER?" he yelled. Hermione flinched, backing away from him. Suddenly she was afraid of him standing there like that. Tall, stronger than her and filled with this furious rage. With a shock it came to her mind that she didn't had her wand with her! But he wouldn't do anything to her! He wouldn't dare… would he? He was just upset… no reason to fear… what could happen anyway?

"How dare you soil her memory by speaking of her with your filthy Mudblood tongue? Don't you ever do that again! Don't to dare think about her or even say her name! YOU BLOODY MUDBLOOD ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR – "

"STOP IT!" Hermione screamed. "How can you say anything like that? How can you still think like that? That are exactly the thoughts Voldemort has!" She panted for breath, completely surprised by his reaction.

"When do you finally get it? To be on our side means to be against this blood mentality!"

"Who says that I am on your side?" Malfoy asked coldly.

Hermione felt her heart sink at once. He hadn't meant it like that. It was impossible and she knew that. He was no Death Eater anymore. He wasn't on Voldemort's side anymore. She was sure… she thought… she hoped.

"You… you… you are on our side… otherwise you would have killed me by now!"

"Honestly, Granger, you're lacking tactfulness. How did you even manage to brew a single potion?"

Hermione was confused and frightened and hoping that Ron or Harry would wake up and come to her aid. She felt extremely uncomfortable in her own skin.

"What d-do you mean?" she asked crestfallen.

"To be _against _the Dark Lord doesn't necessarily mean to be on _your_ side," he said slowly.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You mean… you… but you are here! You are helping us, aren't you? You are going to help us! That's why you came!"

"Primarily I came to be safe from the Dark Lord."

"But why didn't you take your mother with you?" Hermione registered too late what she had just said and clapped her hands over her mouth.

She felt so small, when he took a few steps towards her. Hermione tried to keep her spirits up. He didn't have a wand in his hand; he only wanted to intimidate her, to scare her. He wouldn't seriously harm her.

"I told you," he began with low and quivering voice, "I don't want to hear a word about her from your unworthy filthy mouth, Mudblood. You dare looking me in the eye, after your fault – "

"What are you talking about?" At the same time the words streamed out of her mouth Hermione wished, she wouldn't have said them. They only irritated him even more.

He was now standing in front of her, looking at her from above. His cold grey eyes flashed, when he spoke.

_Since when am I afraid of Draco Malfoy!_

"You alone, Mudblood, are responsible for something my mother didn't deserve. It is your damn fault that I left her behind." His voice was soaked with hatred, anger and bitterness, when he attacked her verbally.

Hermione opened her mouth and at the same moment she felt two strong hands, his hands, grabbing her by the shoulders and pressing her against the wall.

Now she was just feeling fear, which she didn't know where it was coming from. Fear and despair. He could also harm her without a wand and Harry and Ron hadn't waken up yet, so they wouldn't hear her, no matter how loudly she screamed.

She couldn't believe it. How could she have let herself get into this? How could she have had such an idea? No matter how civilized and pleasant he had seemed at the beginning, he was Malfoy after all. It had been just a matter of time that a situation like this would occur. You just couldn't predict when. His mood changed so fast that one could never know when it was better to run.

Hermione tried to let go of this thought. It was his mother's death which drove Malfoy to this behavior. It wasn't like he really wanted to harm her. But what the hell was he talking about? Why was it her fault that his mother hadn't come along?

"Don't you dare ask," he hissed.

"You don't get it. You are a Mudblood. Listen carefully, Mudblood. Your bloody reckless Muggle- parents in their pretty little house burdened our world with you, as well as countless stupid Muggles did with countless bloody Mudbloods. You think you could just come into a world you had never heard of before. You think you could take the jobs away from us, become head boy or girl, become _teachers_! You feel like witches and wizards, but you are not! You are nothing but Muggles who can control magic! No wizards! You are Mudbloods! You will never understand.

Our few pure wizard families have to fight more and more to be acknowledged, to be _honored_. From birth on we learn, increase our knowledge and skills. And then you come along, receive you Hogwarts- letter, are pleased by it and nullify everything we worked for!"

Hermione had rarely seen him that angry. His hissing set her teeth on edge.

She didn't want to listen anymore. She wanted to scream, run away, hide under her blanket.

But he gripped her tightly and continued with low voice.

"Even Weasley is above you. Even _he_ is far better than the know-it-all Hermione Granger. It is unfortunate that one of the biggest pure blood- families today put themselves down to the same level as _you_. You are not worth it. Your blood is filthy. You read so much, but the real magic you will never understand. You will never feel it. You will always be below us. No matter how high your position in the Ministry might be, you will never belong to this world with every cell of your body. You will never feel the magic within you like real wizards do. For you will never be a real witch."

"Stop it," Hermione whispered. She couldn't understand, why he was saying all this. Did it have something to do with his mother? And why did she feel so bad about it?

She didn't know him well enough to notice that he was simply trying to lay the blame on someone else for something he held himself responsible for.

"You want me to stop?" Malfoy asked. A cold smiled flickered on his lips. "Why? Is it because you believe me? Because you know it is true? That you are tainted?"

"Stop it. Please! Stop it!" Hermione called. Her back hurt and felt cold. He was still pressing her against the hard wall and piercing his fingers into her shoulder.

"Get off me," Hermione demanded, banning the insecurity out of her voice as good as possible.

Much to her surprise he pulled back from her. He didn't say a single word anymore, turned around and left the kitchen with steady steps.

Hermione let herself slide down the wall, till she was sitting on the floor, leaning back. She was shivering. She felt cold, she was only wearing Ron's bathrobe and only now did she register that her feet were standing in a puddle of tea. The tea had cooled down by now which was why her feet were even more freezing. Hermione noticed with relieve that the she had missed the shards by a hairbreadth. Had she been standing a little more to the left, she would have cut her foot.

She closed her eyes, trying to forget what Malfoy had just said. It was only balderdash. He was just a spoiled boy who agreed with his parents' arrogant opinion. She was a witch. Since her birth she had been a proper… real… witch…

Hermione knew that he was wrong: Dumbledore had always treated everyone equally. He had known that all people at Hogwarts were witches and wizards. He had said it, meant it, known it. And she trusted Dumbledore.

And yet she couldn't prevent the tears from filling her eyes.

When was the last time that Malfoy's words had made her cry? Had they ever done it before?

At that moment she didn't know. She sobbed silently with her head lowered, letting her tears spill onto her lap, not knowing that Malfoy had done the same not so long ago. Whether it had been his words or the whole situation, the circumstances, which brought her to tears, she had no idea and didn't spare another thought to it. Maybe she was just releasing all the tension from the previous days…

She didn't figure out what was supposed to be her fault. She hadn't forced him to come and hadn't demanded him to leave his mother either. She couldn't figure out what something she didn't do had to do with her parentage. She just couldn't figure out _him. _

Eventually she stood, picked up the shards and wiped up the tea.

An apple she didn't take.

"You want us to search through_ all_ of these?" Ron asked the following morning with incredulous face, after Hermione had assigned him and Harry to the small library of the Blacks.

"Exactly, Ron. It's the best if you start now," Hermione said in a tone similar to McGonagall, while she surveyed the shelves.

"Yeah, and what about you?" Ron asked.

"I will deal with the books in Mrs. Black's bedroom," Hermione answered. "And you better go to work!" she called over the shoulder threateningly, marching out of the library.

The bedroom was a large, dark and dusty room, in the middle of which there was a big four- poster bed. The curtains were torn to shreds, maybe by Doxys, sagging tainted. The room was only dimly lit, so Hermione had to help herself with her wand, before she turned her attention to the dusty book shelf on the right. It was stuffed with thick, old looking tomes. Most of the covers were dark and inscribed with golden letters. Gathered from the titles, it was possible that the subject of Horcruxes was in at least the half of them.

Hermione sighed.

It would probably be the easiest to start on the left of the top shelf and to work through the books.

She pulled a dark green book out of the shelf and wiped away the dust to get a better look on the title: "Poisons which live up to their promises". The chance to find something useful in here was of course practically zero. But she and the boys had agreed to look into _each_ book, which suited Hermione just well. She didn't have anything else to do after all and here she had the possibility to stick her nose into books she had never dreamt of reading – needless to say that she agreed with the authors by no means, but she found them interesting nevertheless.

One and a half hour later she finally got to a book, which sounded promising: "The soul and its relevance in the Dark Arts."

The soul seemed to be of great relevance or so the size of the book seemed to suggest. Hermione sat on the floor on a pillow from Mrs. Black's bed, leaned back against the shelf and opened the book. She ran a finger over the table of contents.

She couldn't suppress a small cry of triumph, when she read:

_Horcruxes: Splitting of the soul… 351_

Hastily she leafed through the old yellowed pages… 347…349…367…_367!_

"Damn!" she cursed loudly. On page 367 there was the title of the next chapter, written in large black letters. Hermione now detected that the chapter about the Horcruxes must have been ripped out.

She groaned: "You have got to be kidding me!" No one had any idea how to destroy a Horcrux. Riddle's diary seemed to have not been dangerous, but Dumbledore's black hand couldn't have been a clearer warning.

But, Hermione thought, that suggested even stronger that Regulus really was R.A.B.

She continued to look for several hours, until she decided that it was time for lunch. She put the book "Little torture to kill time" (an especially old work describing how to tantalize Muggles, house-elves and other creatures in a simple, but efficient way) back into the shelf and headed for the library.

Already from a distance she heard loud voices.

Voices of three people. Malfoy seemed to be arguing with Harry and Ron.

Hermione hadn't set eyes on him the whole day and it had suited her just well. She hadn't told Harry and Ron anything about the previous evening, wanting to forget it as quickly as possible and to try not to let on about it. She was hoping that he would restrain from any comments – just as Ron had since that evening she had explained that she only saw him as a friend.

Hermione was standing in front of the door now, surprised that the argument hadn't turned into a wild shouting battle yet – but wait a moment! They were not fighting, it seemed more like… no, that was impossible, wasn't it?

Hermione opened the door and stepped in.

Surrounded by carelessly spread books, Harry, Ron and Malfoy were sitting around a table on which there was something that Hermione recognized as the Daily Prophet.

"There is no way that was a sloth roll!" Harry said, drumming with his index finger on the newspaper.

"Honestly, Potter… you Gryffindors must really be pitiful Quidditch- players, if they even made you captain," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "You aren't even able to recognize a sloth roll, if it was right in your face."

Harry rolled his eyes and replied: "Open your eyes, man! He almost fell, that's all. It wasn't planned. It was just coincidence that he – "

"Harry, mate," Ron interfered. He seemed to feel extremely uncomfortable. "You see, you don't know O'Day. He is really cunning and… well… I think… Malfoy is… right."

Ron threw Harry an apologetic glance, blushing and shrinking in his chair.

"Ha! Even our Weasel- king knows it!" Malfoy called, smirking.

"And I thought Quidditch would divide the Houses even more," Hermione said loudly from the door. The three of them turned around surprised.

"If someone would have told me that I could bring even _you_ to a civilized conversation…" she murmured. She walked towards them.

"Where did that come from?" she asked strictly, pointing at the Daily prophet.

"Normally it's brought by owls," Malfoy said with a bored voice.

"You know that it might attract attention if owls fly here, right? What if Death Eaters are still observing the house somehow?"

"Then they would have already noticed that we are here," Harry said. "And don't look at us so reproachfully! _He_ ordered it!"

_He_ was clearly Malfoy.

"Who would have thought…? So?"

"What?" Ron asked.

"What happened? Anything important?" Hermione said impatiently.

"Well… we… uh, we only read… sports…" Ron murmured under his breath.

"What? That's so typical!" Hermione called. She picked up the newspaper.

"Hey! I don't want a Mudblood to touch my stuff!" Malfoy shouted, which earned him kicks against both shinbones.

"Don't call her that!" Ron hissed furiously.

Hermione quickly scanned the headlines, finding relieved that nothing bad had happened.

"And did you find anything? In the books, I mean?" she wanted to know.

"Nothing," Harry said. "What about you?"

Hermione told them about the missing chapter about the Horcruxes.

"Yeah, that really points to Regulus," Harry agreed.

After they had finished with lunch and cleaned the kitchen – apart from Malfoy – the three boys went back to the library and Hermione returned to Mrs. Black's bedroom.

It happened often during the search that she forgot why she was here in the first place and lost herself in the books. Yet she managed to look through all the books by late evening, for she could scan the pages for the word "Horcrux" with a searching charm. A few times Horcruxes were mentioned, but only in subordinate clauses, which offered no new information.

She left the room disappointedly to help out in the library.

This time the mood was completely different. Harry and Ron were working in one of the corners, Malfoy in another. They weren't speaking, but only throwing deathly stares every now and then.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"I'm finished. There was nothing in the books. I think we can stay here for another half an hour and then go have dinner, alright?"

With an icy glance by Malfoy and a nod by the other two Gryffindors it was agreed.

"Well then. Where should I look?" she asked.

Harry pointed to a shelf in the middle of the room and then returned to the book he was holding in his hand.

They worked silently for a while. The only sound that was to be heard was the shutting of a book or the noise when a book was placed back into the shelf.

They didn't continue on for long, but went to the kitchen.

When they were all sitting around the table eating, it was too much for Hermione.

"Well, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Harry and Ron said simultaneously.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! We are just not very happy in _his_ company," Ron grumbled.

"You were able to have a decent conversation before," Hermione objected.

"Before! That was a blooper that I regret deeply."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because!"

"But Ron, you have to – "

"Hermione! Let it go, okay!"

"No, I won't! I know how long we will be staying here, maybe months! And I'm not about to live in constant silence!"

"Months? You don't want to go back to Hogwarts, Granger? What about the N.E.?"

"There are more important things than that. What I actually wanted to say – "

"More important things? Merlin, Granger! There is nothing more important than homework and a back, that's buckled by carrying heavy books around!"

"Yes, there is! But if you – "

"I really thought that it would have been too late."

"Malfoy! Can I please finish speaking?" Hermione shouted shrilly.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Hermione asked, looking at him irritated.

"You can try," Malfoy said simply.

Hermione sighed.

"Anyway, what I wanted to say is – "

"I hope ten inches of parchment are enough. Professor Vector said six are enough, but – "

"DRACO MALFOY!" Hermione barked, now completely frantic. "If you don't shut your goddamn mouth at once, I'll hex you till you can't distinguish top from bottom anymore!" Inwardly Hermione was jumping up and down. It felt so good to vent her anger and to yell at his arrogant grinning face!

"I don't think that I will allow a Mudblood to talk to me like that," Malfoy said coolly.

"If you call her that one more time," Ron threatened with serious expression, shaking his fist in front of Malfoy's face, "_I_ will hex you till you don't even know that top and bottom exist anymore!"

"Impressing."

"Could you _please_ stop now?" Harry asked sharply. "You really drive me nuts, all of you! If you carry on like that, we will have killed each other, before Voldemort even had the idea to look for us in here! We have to pull ourselves together and try to make the best of it, okay?"

"Thanks, Harry. That's exactly what I wanted to say," Hermione sighed.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you think so far!<p> 


	7. Surprises at Godric's Hollow

**Chapter 7 – Surprises at Godric's Hollow**

The four of them spent the following days in the library, looking for information about Horcruxes and their destruction.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were in good spirits. They were laughing, chatting and bantering, while Malfoy was silent most of the time – which suited them just well – and threw them irritated glances every now and then.

But after a while of hard work they had searched through all the books, without the slightest success. Despite of that they were really glad that the Blacks had kept their library relatively small and manageable.

Since they didn't get ahead, they agreed to leave for Godric's Hollow on Wednesday. Harry, Ron and Hermione were looking forward to the trip with mixed feelings. For one with curiosity of course, but on the other hand also with curiously depressing solemnity. After all they would be nearer to the sad past there than anywhere else.

On the afternoon of the previous day they were in the library, Harry and Ron engaged in a heated game of wizard chess, while Hermione and Malfoy tried to concentrate on their books.

"Harry, not the bishop!" Ron warned. "My rook!"

"I should have known that even Weasley is good at _something_ apart from looking stupid," Malfoy groaned, standing up.

He didn't even expect a comment anymore, for Harry, Ron and Hermione had formed a habit of ignoring him.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked instead, looking over her book to him.

"I'm getting a glass of water, if you don't mind," Malfoy answered.

"Oh, good. Can you get me one too?" the brown head murmured, returning to her book.

Malfoy stood rooted on the spot. Only after several seconds did he go a few steps back to his chair, sinking onto it.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"I have forgotten about you."

"Uh, so?"

"_You _get the water. _You_ are the Mu-… -ggleborn"

Hermione looked at him for a moment angrily. But suddenly, while she was examining him, an idea occurred to her, one that was really out of character for her. At once her furious expression disappeared, turning into an innocent look.

"Well then. Before I die of thirst…" She got up quickly, leaving the library.

In the kitchen she filled two big glasses with water and went back, careful not to make a mess.

"I knew you would get it eventually," Malfoy murmured.

Hermione went over to him and offered him the glass. He stretched out his hand, but before he could grab it, she had raised it. A sweet smile on her lips, she poured the whole content of the glass over his head.

Triumphantly she watched him sitting there dumbfounded. "Please bear in mind that I'm not letting myself be insulted by you", she threw him a meaningful glance, "nor be bossed around." Harry and Ron looked at her and moments later they burst out in loud laughter.

Malfoy stood up, quivering in anger. His hair was completely soaked and drops of water sipped down onto his face and his shoulders. Hermione couldn't contain herself anymore and joined in Harry and Ron's laughter, which was why she didn't notice Malfoy pulling his wand. Only when he pointed it between her eyes, she fell silent. So did Harry and Ron.

"What. Were. You. Thinking!" Malfoy ground out.

Suddenly Hermione's idea didn't seem so good anymore. Maybe she should have avoided the trouble? Now the mood would drop to the bottom again… but she just hadn't been able to resist. He had more than deserved it.

Thankfully, this time Harry and Ron were around. They would hex Malfoy black and blue, if he harmed her.

Suddenly Malfoy performed a movement with his wand and Hermione was expecting a bolt of lightning, pain or being flung against the shelf.

But nothing like that happened. First she wondered perplexedly, what he had done, until she noticed that her own glass of water had freed itself from her grip and was now slowly flying upwards. It stopped just above her head.

A small "Oh" escaped Hermione's lips.

Malfoy snapped his fingers and a split second later Hermione felt the ice- cold water pouring over her head, shoulders and face. She ran her hand over her head. Her hair was completely soaked, hanging down flatly. She should have expected something like that! If only she hadn't filled her glass to the top.

She brushed a streak of wet hair off her face angrily, catching Malfoy's gaze, who was grinning superiorly. He raised his wand and dried his hair and cloak with it.

Hermione averted her eyes and reached into her pocket to follow his action. But her fingers fumbled for her wand to no avail.

"Are you looking for this, Granger?" Malfoy said, holding her wand in his hand.

"Give it back!" Hermione hissed.

"Sure. But only if you don't _ever_ do that again. If you do, the next time the consequences will be much more… amusing."

He wiggled her wand and Hermione felt her hair and her coat drying up. She hastily snatched it out of his hand, clutching it tightly to her chest.

"Your hair looks much better wet, Granger. Not so… bushy." He turned his back to her and strolled out of the library.

"This… bloody… bastard!" Hermione mumbled, turning around to Harry and Ron. Both boys were staring at her with big round eyes.

"What?" she asked irritated.

"Well… Mione… your hair," Ron stammered. He couldn't suppress a grin anymore.

"What about my –" Hermione took a confounded look on her hair, which were dry and bushy, but had adopted a bright green color.

"Aaarrg!" she screamed, clenching her fists. She took several deep breaths to calm herself. Then she waved her wand surly, which turned her hair back to its natural brown.

The following morning Hermione had neither carried out her personal vendetta against the Slytherin nor come up with the slightest idea of a plan. But she still had enough time.

Today the focus was on Godric's Hollow and she didn't want to additionally burden Harry with silliness. The black- haired boy was extremely quiet and thoughtful this morning. He would be returning to his parents' home for the first time in sixteen years after all.

They didn't have any idea what they would look for or do there, but they hoped for clues that would help them somehow.

The question whether Malfoy should come along, had resolved quickly. Even if they were uncomfortable with inviting him into the home of the Potters, they found it worse by far to leave him behind alone and unguarded.

They left the house after breakfast.

Outside the sun was shining. Bright sunrays broke through the few clouds and warmed their faces. It would be a pleasant day.

Harry took a deep breath. "I hope I can make it." Hermione knew that he didn't mean the fact that he almost couldn't remember his parents' house at all, so it was hard to concentrate on it. Apparating was also getting more complicated, if you take another person with you, and in this case they were four.

Harry took Ron and Hermione by the arms.

Malfoy seemed about to say something, but closed his mouth again. He looked from Hermione to Ron and eventually grabbed Hermione's forearm, for she was closer to him.

Hermione wondered what Muggles would think, if they saw them like this. Harry, who was holding onto Ron and her, closed his eyes and concentrated. His grasp became tighter and Hermione's arm hurt slightly.

Malfoy's grip was tight, but fortunately not painful. Hermione remembered just too well how her shoulder had hurt from his fingers piercing into it.

She was yanked along with Harry with a sudden jerk.

Moments later they found themselves standing many kilometers away in a beautiful green garden.

They looked around curiously. There was no one to be seen on the street, which was lined by houses with gardens on both sides. From their location they couldn't say how big the place was, but Hermione assumed that it was a village.

At the end of the garden path, on which they were standing, was the Potters' house. It looked neat and inviting with light-colored walls and large windows. The garden around them was trimmed and well-tended. Yellow and white roses stretched their heads towards the sun and Hermione could smell their sweet scent.

"So… what do you think… who could be living here?" Ron asked into the jolly twitter of the birds.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had wondered, if the house would be empty or if someone was living here.

Harry didn't answer, but let his eyes sweep over each meter of the house and the property. Malfoy was standing silently and motionlessly behind them, waiting with his hands in his pockets.

"I guess we should just ring the bell," Hermione suggested.

They walked to the white front door. There they looked for a bell to no avail. There was none, nor a knocker or a mail box which could tell them who was living here.

"Well, then we'll just have to knock," Hermione said.

Harry raised his fist and knocked on the door three times. Nobody answered and so Harry knocked again, but the door didn't open.

The three Gryffindors exchanged helpless glances. What now? Turn back? Wait?

Ron murmured "It's worth a try" and pushed the handle – the door was indeed opening.

After a surprised silence Hermione asked: "Do you think we should go in?"

Harry nodded and quietly stepped through the door, followed by Hermione, Ron and Malfoy, who closed the door behind him.

They were standing in a small corridor with three doors leading to other rooms. The wallpaper was of a pale yellow, there were a mirror and a wardrobe at the wall. Everything was clean, but otherwise there was no sign that someone was living here.

Harry suggested to simply open the next best door, when suddenly the second door on the left swung open. They spun around shocked, their wands on the ready.

Behind them there was a haggard, tall person with a long grey beard, watching them with a silent smile.

Ron examined the man in the door with a confused face. Malfoy had raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry inquiringly.

But Hermione knew, who the man was, and opened her mouth, but Harry beat her to it.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

The landlord of the Hog's Head peered at them one by one, before turning to Harry again.

"I have been waiting for you. Come on in." He turned around and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Malfoy followed him.

They stepped into a room, which was clearly the living room. One sofa and two armchairs were standing around a small wooden table invitingly. The landlord had already sat down and crossed his long legs, while beckoning them to take a seat as well.

Ron, Hermione and Malfoy sat on the sofa. Harry settled down in the second armchair.

The room had two large windows, through which bright daylight was streaming in. On the walls there were pictures and photographs and it wasn't difficult for Hermione to find Harry's parents, Sirius, Lupin and Peter.

They fell into a depressing silence, when they all stared at the traitor, his victims and Sirius, who smiled back so cheerfully. On the right wall there was a small, completely tidy fireplace beside the shelves full of books.

Harry cleared his throat and asked his question again: "What are you doing here?"

The landlord answered with twinkling eyes: "Yes, yes. I see. You don't know who I am?"

"You are the Hog's Head's landlord."

"Right, right. That's true. But you don't know who I am? Astonishing that my brother didn't even tell you, Harry, about it."

"Your brother?" Harry echoed confusedly.

"Yes, my brother. He declared me insane, when I would rather introduce my goats to him than listen to stories about you. But he told me anyway," the landlord murmured, for a moment lost in thoughts.

Hermione's eyes widened… was it even possible?

"You… you are… _Dumbledore's _brother?"

The landlord chuckled pleased. "Perfect! That's how it's supposed to be! Yes, I'm Aberforth. Albus told me that you are a clever little witch. I witnessed it myself some time ago, do you remember? You and Mr. Weasley are Harry's friends, but Albus never told me about a blond boy… he looks like a Malfoy. What is he doing here?"

Aberforth's eyes were now looking at Malfoy, who returned his glance with frowned expression.

"Maybe you should answer Potter's question first, before we let him in on our business."

"Potter's question? Not Harry's?" Dumbledore's brother asked, raising an eyebrow.

No one said anything.

"Well then. I have waited for you, Harry."

"I'm here now," Harry replied. "What do you want?"

Hermione noticed that Harry didn't know how to react, now that Dumbledore's forgotten brothers had suddenly appeared. She wondered why it had never occurred to her that the landlord was related to Dumbledore. Now that they knew, it seemed completely obvious.

"I don't want much. First I wanted to make sure that you come back here. If you hadn't come, I would have fetched you of course," the old man explained.

"Albus found it extremely important that you know one thing: I'm always at the Hog's Head and should you need any help, just come to me and I'll inform the Order. Do you understand? Good, good. I'm supposed to tell you from Albus that he had spoken the truth at all times, even if not everything. He had always made judgments after detailed consideration and wants you to know that he is… was one hundred percent behind your decisions."

"When did he tell you that?" Harry asked, leaning forward in his armchair eagerly.

"A few days before he went off with you…" Aberforth stared at the wall, till he continued: "He had still trusted Severus with all his heart. He had believed him until the last moment… I would have never thought that he would make such a big mistake…"

Aberforth's eyes wandered to Malfoy and it was obvious what he was thinking. Eventually he spoke it out loudly and seriously: "I don't know, what has gotten into you to trust _him_, but I want to warn you. Albus hasn't died to let his mistakes be repeated all over again. You should turn him over to the Order or the Aurors. Be assured: the faster you get rid of him, the better."

Malfoy's face didn't betray his thoughts and feelings. His glance looked rather indifferent, as if he hadn't understood his words.

"I don't think your brother would have approved it," Harry said loudly. "He would have trusted Malfoy, if he had lived to see his switching sides. I was there, when he talked to Malfoy."

"My brother also trusted Severus," Aberforth replied. "Believe me, Harry. I spent my whole life at the Hog's Head with just this kind of vermins, with dubious appearances. They offered me or Albus services, but they were always scoundrels. Think of Mundungus…"

"I don't think, you can compare me with _those_…_ people_," Malfoy declared in his usual arrogant manner.

"No, no. Not at all!" Aberforth called. "You are and you can do so much more than those little thieves or cheaters."

"Oh, stop it. I do, what I say, not like some treacherous finger smiths. But if nobody trusts me, fine! Do you think it matters to me?"

"They are right not to trust you," Aberforth said, while he picked a stray straw out of his beard.

"I trust him!" Harry said quietly, but with absolute conviction.

"You see? Potter knows what a Malfoy's word is worth."

"Harry! You fool, isn't that the boy who had been your archenemy for so long? Look at his family! Merlin's beard, why do you trust _him_?" Aberforth seemed a little angry about Harry's allegedly obvious stupidity.

"The reasons are very… personal."

"Oh, really? Well, Severus' reasons were too…"

"Harry, shall we take a look at the other rooms?" Hermione asked after a while.

The three boys and Hermione stood up.

"The bedroom is right over there," Aberforth said with low voice. He remained seated, pulled a pipe out of the pocket of his filthy coat and watched them leave the room.

Harry stood in front of the wooden door and opened it very slowly.

The room behind it was slightly smaller than the living room. Under the window there was a freshly made king-size bed. On the right wall they saw a large cupboard, also made of wood. The floor was laid out with a light- colored carpet. In the middle of the room there was a cradle. Harry's cradle.

This was the place. The room, in which it had happened. It was here that Harry had lost his parents and Harry's story and Voldemort's demise had begun.

Hermione stepped forward and laid a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. He was standing by the cradle, looking around with painful expression, searching.

No one dared to make a sound. An odd tension seemed to surround them, while they simply stood there.

Hermione was suddenly gripped by grief. The thought of growing up without parents was terrible for her and unimaginable. She had seen her family rarely in the last years, but they had always been an important part of her life. Her idols she had looked up to.

She was impressed by Harry once again. By how he had managed to become such a good and loving person despite of the Dursleys and that he had never stopped fighting in spite of all those losses.

Hermione didn't know how long they had been just standing there.

No one wanted to say anything to not rip Harry out of his train of thoughts.

Eventually Harry stepped to his parents' bed, turning his glance to a framed picture hanging on the wall over the front end. Hermione could only imagine it to be of him and his parents, for she was too far away to see it exactly.

Harry paused in front of the bed and reached out his hands to the picture as if in trance. He grabbed the frame, took it from the wall and stared at it for a few minutes. At the first moment Hermione thought his eyes were filling with tears.

Harry turned the frame around and ran a hand over the backside. Hermione had barely time to wonder about it, for suddenly a pale light appeared. Harry's hand dissolved in the rays, which expired soon.

Hermione saw amazedly that Harry was now holding a coiled up piece of parchment in his hand. He unrolled it with shaky fingers and started to read. Already after a few lines he sank down onto the bed.

While he was reading, his face changed continuously. From grief to anger to incredulousness.

When he had finished it, Hermione couldn't see, what he was thinking. His face had taken on a peculiar expression, when he handed the parchment to her and Ron.

They began to read curiously.

_My dear Harry,_

_I don't know if you have ever watched a Muggle- movie or read a book in which someone learns about important things from his mother or father on the day he comes of age. _

_It should have been like that with you too. I wanted to tell you, what I have written down here. Since you have now found this letter, I'm apparently not with you anymore to tell you in person._

_I don't know how old you are now, but I hope you will understand what I want to tell you. I'm sure, if not today, eventually you will understand when you experience a similar situation._

_Don't expect too much now. I want to pass experiences and events of my life down to you._

_You have to know, Harry, that I have had three men in my life (apart from you). My father, your father and his worst enemy of his school time. Please don't be mad, if you read this, but continue and let me explain._

_James was in Gryffindor with me and his friends, as you know without a doubt. He was in the Quidditch- Team as well (he was a really brilliant player) and had never had problems in school. He was (and is) handsome, popular and always good- humored. _

_Severus, whom I'm now going to tell you about, was almost the complete opposite._

_He was in Slytherin, an introverted, quiet boy (I don't know if he has ever been on a broom). The only thing he had in common with James was that he had never had problems in class as well. Maybe someone has told you that I was quite good in Potions?_

_Well, Severus was too. He had more knowledge and talent on this field than me by far. He was patient and had the required finesse which all the other boys lacked at his age – probably after that as well._

_Severus didn't speak much and when he did, only with the Slytherins. I don't know why, but in the fifth grade I started to pay more attention to him. I was attracted to him in an inexplicable way. Don't get me wrong, Harry, I have never been in love with him, neither has he been with me!_

_I wanted to learn more about him, for I had never had anything to do with his sort of people._

_So I tried to engage him in a conversation in the library. He was often there, reading books most people get a headache from._

_Well, I tried to talk to him, of course about Potions. But he didn't speak with me because I was a Gryffindor, because I was Muggle- born (he was a Halfblood), because he didn't talk much anyway or maybe also because he knew that James wanted to go out with me. You must know that James and Sirius, your godfather, had never left out an opportunity to curse him and to call him "Snivelly". Of course Severus followed suit to defend himself, but he was always alone, while James and Sirius were at least in pairs. _

_Be that as it may, eventually Severus talked to me in the sarcastic way that was usual for Slytherins with brains. I decided to answer him in the same manner. He was surprised that I was even able to make such comments, being the model- Gryffindor that I was. From then on we talked more often and after weeks or months some sort of friendship had formed between us. _

_Nobody knew about it._

_In the seventh year I fell in love with your father. He had changed, wasn't the arrogant boy hexing everyone anymore. He had grown up. Only Severus remained his victim._

_James and I became an item and blinded by love I cut all ties with Severus, without noticing what it triggered in him._

_He didn't love me. That I can tell for sure. It was the fact that I cold-shouldered him I favor of the wonderful, golden James._

_Two years did the connection between me and Severus last and during that time I discovered that he was not only intelligent and capable, but also… human. He seemed so inhumane from the outside, but I noticed that this was exactly what made him so human! He wanted to protect himself. I never found out the reason, but I think, it had something to do with his family._

_But he could be different. I felt really comfortable in his company, even if I was well aware the whole time that he was a Slytherin with all his heart._

_Well, I gave him up and lived happily with James. We graduated and moved in together._

_One time Albus informed us that Severus had joined the Death Eaters some time ago._

_I was so desperate, for I blamed myself for it, and told James everything. He was surprised, but not angry. And he said that it wasn't my fault. He said that my actions may have contributed to Severus' decisions, but it was him, Severus, after all, who had been ready to become a Death Eater. Of course your father was right, but up until today I feel a little guilty – or rather sad._

_But shortly before your birth something happened that made me really happy: Severus returned! From then on he worked as a spy for Albus. I have never talked to him again. No one was allowed to meet him, if it would raise even the slightest suspicion. And there wasn't anyone who wanted to meet him anyway, apart from me… _

_I don't know how it happened, how Voldemort found us. I hope Sirius, Remus and Peter are well. Anyway, it happened and this is now the only possibility to tell you this:_

_I think Harry, you already know, what I'm getting at._

_But I'm writing it down for you as the only advice that I will possibly be able to give you. I don't know._

_Severus was the best example for to never judge someone by his appearance. I don't mean just the looks. Nobody would have believed me that you could spend cozy hours with him, that he could be humorous, polite and friendly. For no one has ever made an effort to even try to look behind his facade of impassibility. So he was indeed, almost impassive. You could only see anger and sneer in his expression, neither joy nor sadness nor any other feelings. He never laughed. Not in other people's presence anyway._

_Had I or someone else done a little bit more for him, maybe he would have been on our side from the beginning and wouldn't have to risk his life as a spy. But he did and no one thanked him for it, apart from Albus. Albus is also the only one who trusted him with all his heart. Severus confided something to Albus I don't have any idea about._

_You have met him probably. I don't know if he's still teaching in Hogwarts, for he was to take a job there and spy for Voldemort._

_I know he would let you sense what he thought of James. But I also know that he would never seriously harm you, Harry. Believe me, he would never touch a hair on a student's head._

_I wish from all my heart that you have friends like Sirius, Remus and Peter had been to us. I'm so glad that you are reading this letter now, since it means that Voldemort hasn't killed you and that a matter Severus and I had talked about a long time ago had cleared…_

_Harry, if you know Severus, I want to ask you to tell him that I have always been sorry and tell him that six was right, not five, and that I was right._

_I hope he will understand and explain it to you._

_You can't imagine how relieved I would be, if you passed this to him._

_All my love,_

_Lily_

"Oh god," Hermione breathed. She was staring at the letters. "But… Snape… your mother… oh Harry!" She turned to him and noticed tears of pain in his sparkling green eyes. She hurried to him and threw her arms around him. Ron sat next to them on the bed, not knowing whether he should look angry at Snape or pitiful for Harry.

Hermione laid the letter on Harry's lap and stroked his back comfortingly. She felt a light tremble, when he spoke.

"I can't believe it," he said with raspy voice. "Why did everybody come a mucker? My Mum… she couldn't know… it was _his_ fault!" He gulped. Feelings and thoughts were twirling wildly. He didn't know what to make of it.

This was the only request his mother would ever ask of him and he wouldn't be able to grant it. He _couldn't_.

"He told Voldemort about the prophecy," Harry whispered, staring at the parchment on his lap mesmerized.

Suddenly he turned his glance to Malfoy, who was standing in front of the door, examining the scene with an unreadable expression.

Harry did something that made Hermione and Ron raise their heads in surprise. He stretched out his arm and held his mother's letter out to him.

Malfoy stared at the parchment, then into Harry's emerald eyes and at the letter again. Harry nodded. The blond came over quietly and reached for the parchment.


	8. Revenge is sweet or so she thought

**Chapter 8 – Revenge is sweet… or so she thought**

Aberforth stared into the pale wads of smoke he blew out of his mouth.

That the Trio had got involved with the Malfoy- boy couldn't have been more of a surprise for him. But what should he think of it? What should he do about it? Should he do anything at all? He didn't know the young Malfoy, hadn't met him before. But he knew enough about Lucius to get a good idea of his son. So what had made Harry ally with him?

According to everything Aberforth knew, Malfoy had worked for a whole year on smuggling Death Eaters into Hogwarts and almost killed two students in the process. Harry must have had good reasons to trust him so quickly! But what could these possibly be? What, by Merlin's big toe? What?

Aberforth placed his pipe onto the wooden table. It didn't provide the relaxation for him that he had experienced in the past during comfortable smoking. Was it surprising? Of course not. It was barely a month ago that he had been on his brother's funeral, who was the only one, who had really known him. Since then he had to take care of several things and had come here after that to wait for Harry. Albus must have suspected that something would happen to him. After all he had told Aberforth a few days ago that Harry had to go back to his parents' house…

This very day Aberforth would return to Hogsmeade to spend his day cleaning glasses or talking to the half a dozen goats he kept in his backyard. Everything would seem normal; nobody would notice that he had lost his brother. For no one even knew that he had a brother after all… no, that he had had one. It had always been that way and it would most probably stay like that. Did he wish for a change? Rather not.

Hermione followed the boys into the living room where Aberforth was sitting in his armchair and looking at them expectantly.

"What happened to the house? Did someone live here?" Harry asked, having recovered after a while. He slipped his mother's letter into his cloak. Aberforth didn't miss the movement.

"Well, as far as I know nothing happened. Albus made sure that the house stayed empty, so no one would be surprised."

Harry nodded.

"What are you going to do now?" he wanted to know.

"Me? I'm afraid I'll go on like before. The question is: What are you going to do?"

"We are going to take care of our issues."

"That's always good…" he said. Then he continued seriously: "I don't expect you to trust me like you did with Albus, Harry. But believe me, I will neither stand in your way nor ever betray you. The only thing I will do is give you my advice and my opinion, if you want to hear it."

Harry nodded again.

"I know you are working on plans to destroy Voldemort. I don't know how you want to achieve it. But I advise you: Go on like you did before. Contact other wizards as little as possible and if you have to, go to the Order. Don't attract any attention and don't go to public places at all. Not to Diagon Alley, not to Hogsmeade! At the moment we don't know who is standing on whose side. If you return to Hogwarts, be more careful than ever! Don't trust anyone you don't know," he threw Malfoy a glance, "and don't go to the Ministry of Magic. We don't know exactly what is planned and done there. But no matter if with good purpose or not, they would only throw obstacles in your way!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded, considering it best not to mention that he wasn't telling them anything new.

"Was that a message from your parents?" Aberforth suddenly asked.

Harry nodded, too surprised to wonder how he knew.

"That's good. Yes, indeed… Well then, I will leave now. If I don't go make sure everything is alright, Kunz will have poisoned my goats… or the other way round. Take care! You know where to find me." With these words and a _pop_ Aberforth Dumbledore disappeared.

"He sure was in a hurry," Ron commented. "And he forgot his pipe too."

When they were later sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauldplace, all of them were absorbed in their own thoughts. Harry, Ron and Hermione felt this overwhelming fury at Snape, but couldn't rail against him and vent their anger. They were just too depressed for it.

It was strange for all of them to be there. The house seemed so peaceful and inviting, but the whole time something was sensible, attesting the tragedy which took place there. Hermione was surprised at how well Harry had taken it. He probably learned over the years full of losses to deal with the constant present sorrow.

She had also noticed Malfoy's quietness. The visit to Godric's Hollow had most likely caused a great stir within his memories and feelings, even if he didn't let it show.

At this moment Malfoy raised his head and looked over the table to Harry.

"Why do you believe me, Potter?" Malfoy asked. To Hermione it seemed as if this question was really bugging him. That's how she interpreted his voice and his glance anyway.

"Why did you let me read the letter?"

Harry didn't look at him and didn't move either. But he answered: "Because I trust you."

"Why?" Malfoy repeated. Hermione had wondered often enough and therefore knew how difficult it was to answer this question. Especially after all the years of hatred and suspicions.

Harry raised his emerald eyes, finally meeting Malfoy's grey ones.

"I just do. A few weeks ago I would have declared myself crazy, but somehow… I know that you are not on Voldemort's side anymore… It's a… certainty. I don't know where it comes from, you know? When you just know something, even if it seems so… incredible? I can't tell you anything else."

Both boys kept their eyes on each other for a few heartbeats and then turned away.

Ron didn't look happy with the scene before him at all. He shook his head incredulously, but seemed not to dare to say anything.

They had lunch and then went their own ways. Harry and Ron disappeared into their room, Hermione went into the library. What Malfoy was doing, she didn't know.

She spent the whole afternoon sticking her nose into a book. She had made herself comfortable in one of the large, green and extremely soft armchairs and didn't go to the kitchen for dinner. She simply had no appetite, as well as her cohabitants.

She read, until darkness settled in, then inflamed the candleholder on a small table on her right side.

Shortly after that, she heard the door swing open. She couldn't see who was coming in, for a tall shelf was blocking her view to the door. She was just about to turn back to her book, when an idea came to her.

Hermione listened. It definitely wasn't Ron. She placed the book as quietly as possible onto the table and got up. Either Harry or Malfoy was standing behind the shelf. Cautiously she tiptoed along the rows of books and peered around the corner of the shelf. A small grin formed on her lips, when she caught sight of Malfoy's fair hair.

Revenge is sweet, she thought.

She slowly raised her wand, murmuring something.

At once Malfoy's hair began to grow. They fell over his shoulders and Hermione watched him ran his hand through the silken mass with a shocked expression. With another charm Hermione dyed his hair jet black. Malfoy turned around angrily, when he noticed it, searching for the culprit in the room.

"Graaaangeeer," he whispered. "I know that you are here." Clutching his slim wand in his hand, he slowly walked to a shelf – and in doing so turned his back to Hermione.

Hermione's rationalness shouted "_No! Not good!_" But she didn't listen to it, for such an opportunity would never rise again.

She went through a series of curses, but decided to scare the Slytherin thoroughly.

Hermione pointed her wand as precisely as possible, casting the charm without speaking.

Several of the weighty tomes flew out of the shelf and cluttered to the floor.

Malfoy winced frightened, spun around and stared at a spot not far from Hermione. He squinted his eyes, trying to spot her in the darkness. Hermione didn't wait for long and let the next load of books fall out of another shelf. She watched with satisfaction, that Malfoy turned around scared. He didn't know where she was and what she was up to. Hermione suspected that he felt much more panicky than it seemed from the outside.

She aimed again, but at the same moment Malfoy turned around to her and seemed to look her straight in the eyes. Hermione raised her wand higher, while she murmured the charm. Malfoy took a step in her direction, but he was stopped abruptly, when a thick red book dumped on his head and then fell to the floor. Malfoy swayed, clutching his head and leaning against the shelf.

Horrified, Hermione watched him sliding downwards, until he was sitting on the floor, eyes closed.

She threw every caution into the wind and hurried towards him. Was he unconscious? She hadn't intended to hit him. Hopefully it was nothing serious…

His still long black hair fell in his face. He looked oddly unfamiliar having hair as long as his father, only black. Draco Malfoy and blond, glossy and perfect hair just belonged together. Although his hair was still shining and extremely neat, the picture just didn't fit into Hermione's image.

She was standing before him and said worriedly: "Malfoy? Can you hear me? I didn't mean to… it was… an accident."

Hermione waited for his reaction to no avail. She bent down to shake him and wake him, when she was suddenly and unexpectedly hit by a bolt of lightning. She caught sight Malfoy's raised wand, before she flew backwards, crashing into the shelf behind her.

She gasped in pain, trying to stand upright, while she watched Malfoy rising to his feet. He didn't take his eyes off of her, raised his wand and pointed it at his head. His hair turned back to fair blond at once and became shorter, until they looked like minutes ago.

"I warned you," he said with a voice so frightening that she was speechless. But this condition was only of short period.

"I told you, it was an _accident_. I didn't mean for the book to hit you."

"You have gone too far, Granger. Even if it hadn't hit me. Now you will pay."

His wand was pointed at Hermione's face. His steps were firm, when he came towards her.

"Please, don't! It doesn't have to be like that!" Hermione pleaded. "Do you understand? Harry said earlier that he trusts you! We trust you! You can't – "

"Granger, _I_ have to be able to trust _you_ too. But if you attack me from behind, I have my issues with that."

"How often do I have to repeat that – "

"Shut up! Save your voice, for you will scream in a moment," he said. A cold smile played about his lips.

Hermione fell silent. She had really started to think that she didn't need to fear him anymore. Strictly speaking, she had only rarely been really afraid of him. She could count the situations on the fingers of one hand. But he now seriously seemed to intend to harm her. What was she supposed to do besides –

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted. A red beam of light burst out of the tip of her wand, which was almost at once blocked by Malfoy's "Protego!".

Hermione didn't have time to be irritated or surprised by Malfoy's quickness, for in the last second she cast a Shield Charm, deflecting Malfoy's curse.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she called. She had to watch her curse being blocked by Malfoy.

She felt awful for having started that. No matter what happened, it wouldn't end well. Even if they got out of it safely, it would only mean that respect and a basic politeness were destroyed, not to mention trust. She made a mental note to never take revenge on Malfoy. No matter how much he deserved it.

They shot curse after curse, missing each other or blocking the attacks. Hermione would rather like to end it, but she didn't think Malfoy would agree.

"Levicorpus!" Malfoy hissed. This time Hermione was too slow and she felt herself rise in the air and tilt over. She was hanging upside down about one meter above the floor. Her back ached even stronger and her head became heavy and heavier.

Panic bubbled up in her. She was at his mercy! What now?

_Stay calm_, she told herself, rearranging her thoughts. Maybe she could stop the charm with _Finite Incantatem_?

"Liberacorpus," Malfoy said at the same moment. Hermione was twirled around, landing painfully on the floor. Her back and legs hurt, her head throbbed unpleasantly, when she looked up. Malfoy was standing in front of her in a triumphant composure.

"Finally where you belong, aren't you, Mudblood?" he hissed.

At this moment it seemed, as if a wall in Hermione was breaking. She threw him a more than angry glance, raised her wand and conjured three yellow canary birds out of nowhere.

"Oppugno!" she shouted furiously. The little birds lunched at Malfoy, stabbing their sharp beaks into him. Two attacked his arms and hands, the third tried to reach Malfoy's face. Malfoy struggled to keep the bird from his forehead. One hand over his face, he tried to chase the relentless birds away.

Hermione watched the scene, panting and not knowing what to do. Her legs didn't seem to obey her anymore. She couldn't flee, even though it would be the smartest thing she could do. In the meantime Malfoy had dispersed one of the birds into black smoke and was now aiming for the second one, which vanished too.

The third bird sank its beak into Malfoy's hand, before it also turned to smoke.

Malfoy didn't spare the vapor a single glance, but pointed his wand on Hermione at once.

She didn't have time to react, before she was hurled against the shelf. She felt the wood press into her back. She staggered forward – only to be hit by Malfoy's curse once again.

"How does that saying go?" Malfoy said. "He that will not hear must feel!"

That was followed by a bright beam of light out of his wand, which singed the sleeve on Hermione's right forearm.

This time she answered with a curse herself. Malfoy tumbled, staggered and fell to the floor. Even before he was up again, Hermione felt a sting on the arm, caused by yet another curse of Malfoy's wand.

By now it didn't matter to Hermione how stupid, childish and irresponsible she was being anymore. Now she could pay him back everything! She didn't have much choice anyway.

She sent Malfoy, who had just stood up, to the floor again, adding another curse to it. This time he stayed down longer.

She staggered towards him, positioned herself next to his head and looked down at him hatefully.

"Why, Malfoy! Finally where you belong? This time – oufff!"

Malfoy lowered his wand. His curse had hit Hermione straight in the stomach. She tumbled for a moment, feeling her strength decrease and eventually slumped next to him to the ground.

Panting heavily, she wiped her hair out of her face. She saw blood on her hand. She willowed her right sleeve up, staring at a fine red line on her forearm, which oozed with blood.

She slid backwards to lean back against the shelf. That made her back hurt even harder. Her arm was burning and the hand with the wand quivered.

Malfoy, who hadn't moved, straightened up and rested against the shelf too. Hermione didn't lower the wand, until she was sure that he wouldn't harm her any further.

She sighed. How could she have been so stupid? If Harry learned about this, he would probably be more than angry, and justifiably so. Ron would blame Malfoy for everything of course and they would have to start from the beginning. Why did she have to behave like a small child, answering each provocation with another one?

"I'm such an idiot," Hermione sighed.

"Took you long enough to realize it, Mudblood," Malfoy scoffed lazily.

"Stop it!" Hermione hissed. "Please, I can't hear that anymore! Why does the whole world has to pride itself on its damn blood? _Everybody_ only thinks of their blood! Why?" she asked, quietly out of tiredness, but angrily.

"The whole world? Chance would be a fine thing, if a few people would think about it more…" Malfoy replied lamely.

"You have no idea!" Hermione hissed. "I didn't only mean people like you! You don't know anything about Muggles, do you?"

"What is there to know? I'm not interested in their pathetic lives."

"Then I'm going to tell you something, Malfoy. In the Muggle- world people are smug about blood and ancestry as well, just like here! The white, thus the European people, have always seen themselves as the superior race." Hermione snorted. "Race! Can you imagine? Oh yes, _you_ can. Anyway, believe me, among Muggles there has also been blood and thunder because of ancestry or skin color."

Hermione saw from the corner of her eye that Malfoy was frowning. She continued angrily:

"Why has it to be so important, if black or white, if Muggle or wizard? We are all people after all! You know? I'm as much a person as you! And a witch too! And you have to let go of your stupid pureblood delusion. You are old enough to notice, what rubbish this is!"

Hermione had absolutely no idea, where this sudden flood of words came from and why she was saying it to Malfoy of all people, and after dueling with him too. She just noticed her anger wane. It had felt good.

Malfoy didn't say anything. Hermione hadn't expected it either.

She turned her head and looked at him. The canary birds had left bloody traces on his hands and several scratches on his face as well. Her eyes wandered to her forearm, where there was still blood dripping down, forming a dark spot on her pants.

"If Harry and Ron see that, they will kill you. And maybe me too," she sighed.

"Weasel will be excited," Malfoy said lamely.

"Don't you think we should make the injuries disappear?" Hermione asked uncertainly.

"Sure." Malfoy raised his wand, pointing it at his left hand and murmuring "Episkey". He removed each of the bloody traces by the birds one after another. Then he took the wand into the left hand, about to cast the charm on his right hand as well, when Hermione interrupted him.

"I can't perform magic with my left hand," she whispered nervously. At this moment she wished more than anything that she didn't have this damn little weakness. But sadly it was the truth. She had never managed even one charm with her left hand.

"That's not my problem, Granger."

Hermione took a deep breath, staring at the thin trickle of blood. "You have to help me," she said. She felt more than uncomfortable.

Malfoy snorted.

"You have to!" Hermione said, trying to put as much conviction into her voice as possible. "If you don't have any injuries, while I do, Harry and Ron will certainly… wonder."

Malfoy looked slightly incredulous, but Hermione knew that he saw the truth in her words. It seemed to take him quite an effort, till –

"Fine…" He took her hand into his.

Hermione was surprised, how cautiously he touched her. Actually she was even surprised that he was touching her _at all_.

Malfoy gently pulled her forearm towards him, pointing his wand at the thin cut.

"Episkey," he murmured. The injury disappeared from Hermione's skin without a trace.

"Thanks," Hermione whispered sheepishly.

"Good to know that you are only able to perform magic with one hand, Granger," Malfoy said with a slight grin. He let go of her hand.

They were both quiet for a while. Hermione was staring down at her hand…

"Shall I… help you?" Hermione murmured into the silence.

Malfoy looked at her contemptuously and said: "_I_'m perfectly capable on my own, don't worry."

Hermione continued after short hesitation: "But you can't see where the scratches on your face are."

Hermione couldn't read his eyes. He didn't answer, but made the blood on his right hand disappear.

In the meantime Hermione wondered what by Merlin's beard she was doing here. First she challenged Malfoy, then she explained to him how terrible this world was and now she wanted to help him and heal his injuries. His harmless injuries, mind you. As if he couldn't just look into a mirror…

"If I let you point your wand at my face," Malfoy's voice interrupted her thoughts, "how can I be sure that you won't attack me again?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. He really considered letting her help him?

"I have just trusted you… now you trust me," Hermione said, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice.

Malfoy's grey eyes pierced into hers. He really seemed to anticipate a malicious attack from her!

But then he nodded.

Hermione leaned towards him uncertainly, her back protesting painfully at the movement, and aimed her wand at his forehead. "Episkey," she whispered. The scratch over his right eyebrow disappeared. She repeated it several times, while examining Malfoy's face carefully.

She had always regarded him with hate and disgust to really _notice_, how… handsome he was. She had always known it deep down, yes, but never paid attention to it. But now she saw that his face seemed almost perfect. The bright grey eyes betrayed nothing of his thoughts, but they were nevertheless, or exactly because of that, fascinating. His aristocratic features were smooth and even, his –

"So," Hermione interrupted her own thoughts hastily, when she finished with the last small injury on his chin. She leaned back and caught a short glance from his grey eyes, before he slowly straightened up.

Hermione decided to follow suit and stood up as well, propping against the shelf in the process. Her back now really hurt nastily. She had bumped into an edge of the shelf several times.

Malfoy just stood there for a few moments, then he said in a low voice "Thanks… Granger" and strolled to the door.

When Hermione heard the door fall shut behind him, she waited shortly, before she followed him. Suddenly she felt incredibly tired… did he just thank her?

She sighed. Of course, he had spent more time than her, Harry and Ron altogether learning when to say "Thanks" and "Please".

Nevertheless it came surprisingly.

It was hard for Hermione to fall asleep that night. No matter how she positioned herself, there was always something that hurt. Now she was standing under a hot shower, hoping that it would relieve her pains.

During the sleepless hours she had thought a lot, about Malfoy and about how he had threatened her.

"_Save your voice, for you will scream in a moment_," he had said. Hermione wondered what he had had in mind. He had really seemed to want to inflict pain upon her and that thought made her shudder. Did that mean she had to be afraid of the Slytherin from now on? Who knows, what else he had intended…

What Hermione didn't know was that Malfoy had scared her with empty threats. For him it was beyond question that he wouldn't harm any of the Gryffindors seriously. He had just been angry that evening and simply wanted to frighten her. That had worked, perhaps better than he had planned. He wondered if he had overreacted. Maybe because he wanted to protect himself from becoming even more "Gryffindor". Who knows, what this companionship would do with him…

But Hermione's thoughts wheeled about something else. When they had both leaned against the shelf exhaustedly, he had behaved differently than when he had threatened her before. He had touched her! And thanked her…

Hermione tried not to let show anything at breakfast. She evaded Malfoy's glance and suppressed cries of pain.

"Can you pass me the honey please?" Harry asked, pointing with his knife. Malfoy handed him the jar.

Harry thanked him and smeared his gem.

"Yesterday Ron and I thought about how to find out more information," he began. "We need more on the Horcruxes and also on the four Founders." He took a bite of his gem, chewed and swallowed. "We have to somehow find out which item Riddle chose of Ravenclaw and if there is another possibility besides Gryffindor's sword."

Hermione nodded.

"We wondered if it wouldn't be pointless to search for books about these topics in Diagon Alley. It's the Horcruxes of all things which are so deep black magic that I don't think that there will be books about them at Flourish and Blott's." He paused slightly, taking a sip of orange juice, and then continued.

"So we thought that we might find information at Nocturn Alley. Can you buy books in Nocturn Alley?" he asked Malfoy.

"You can buy almost everything there… but even there it will attract attention if four Hogwarts- students look for information about Horcruxes," Malfoy said.

"You are right… we would raise suspicions. Would anyone attack us there? A shopkeeper maybe?"

"No, I don't think so. Most of them are only interested in their own businesses. But if someone comes and asks them, they tell you nearly everything most of the time."

"You mean if a Death Eater asks, he would find out that we were there?" Harry asked.

"Most likely."

"But the people wouldn't run to Voldemort and tell him?"

"Usually no. But there are always exceptions."

"We have to risk it," Harry murmured.

"Harry!" Hermione called shocked. "We can't. What if the Death Eaters come? Aberforth advised us not to show up at public places!"

"Hermione," Harry said reassuringly. "I understand what you mean. But we _have_ to do something. There is nothing else for us to do. Or do you have an idea?"

"No, but – "

"Couldn't we use Obliviate?" Ron intervened.

"You mean we sneak into a book shop, buy one and cast a forgetting charm on the shop assistant?" Harry murmured. "Sounds good."

"Harry! Just think about what can go wrong!" Hermione said worriedly. "Please reconsider it! Someone can see us without us noticing! Maybe there are spies in Nocturn Alley or Death Eaters – "

"Voldemort would hardly send his spies into Nocturn Alley. He won't dream of us going there of all places," Harry replied.

"But – "

"Hermione! It's the only way!"

Hermione nodded in defeat.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm a little disappointed that from what I can see in the Story Traffic people are reading this story, but don't bother to leave me a review. Please tell me what you think so far! It would mean so much to me! Thanks for reading anyways!<p> 


	9. Attack

**Chapter 9 – Attack**

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Malfoy planned their trip to Nocturn Alley carefully. They intended to go there on Friday. Since they were now able to Apparate, it was no problem for them to arrive at the alley unseen. They agreed to go into the book store as quickly as possible, buy one or several books and let Hermione cast a Forgetting Charm on the clerk. The last bit Hermione wasn't really happy about, but because neither of them had ever performed the charm, they thought it best to leave it to Hermione.

Nervously and with an uneasy feeling in the gut, Hermione Apparated with the boys.

They found themselves standing in the filthy street known for its Black Magic stores. Hermione recognized the big store Borgin and Burkes, where they had watched Malfoy a year ago. The display window was filled with all sorts of things, but they didn't even spare them a glance, but hastily followed Malfoy down the alley.

They passed small stores, in some of which they could see all kinds of dark creatures or buy poisons. Fortunately they didn't meet anyone on their way, when they stopped in front of the shop _Baker's Books_. Through the window they saw several dusty shelves, crammed with books of all sizes and colors.

After a glance down the alley Malfoy opened the door to the store.

They squeezed into the tight room and closed the door quietly. There was no one to be seen.

They went off with an uneasy feeling, each of them to one of the shelves, searching for books.

Some works Hermione recognized from Grimmauldplace, but none of the books seemed to be of great help to them.

After about ten minutes Ron said: "Hey! Do you think there will be something in here?"

He showed them a book in leather cover with the title: _The four Founders: Secrets and Facts._

"It's worth a try," Harry answered, nodding.

They continued the search, but it became clear quickly that they wouldn't find anything about Horcruxes in here, that they didn't already know.

"Can I help you?" a low voice said behind them.

They turned around and saw a bald, short man standing at the counter. His composure looked unnaturally bent, as if he was trying to be even shorter than he already was. His glance wandered from Harry to Malfoy.

"If you would sell this book to us, then yes," Malfoy said. He took the book from Ron and laid it onto the counter.

With a curious look the man demanded a price, which Malfoy paid. The blond nodded to Hermione as inconspicuously as possible, who took a deep breath, pulled her wand and pointed it at the man.

The man flinched, raising his hands and stammering things they didn't understand, as if he anticipated death.

"Obliviate!" Hermione shouted. There was a bang and the man's expression changed considerably. He now looked slightly confused and stared at his fingers, while murmuring under his breath, giggling every now and then.

"I think we should go!" Harry called. They left the store almost hastily.

"It went well, didn't it?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione, when they were standing in the alley again.

"Yes, you were right," she sighed, smiling and extremely relieved.

"Let's Disappa – what's the matter, Ron?" Ron, who was taller than all of them, looked over their heads into the alley. He seemed to stare at something apparently scary.

Harry, Hermione and Malfoy turned around. "Wha- !" Hermione screamed, before she clapped a hand on her mouth. All four of them pulled their wands at once.

Barely fifteen meters away from them, there were three tall, dark figures. Their faces were hidden behind a mask. Their cloaks were black and in their hands they were clutching wands, ready for the fray.

Before someone could say anything, the Death Eaters started to shoot curses at them.

"Protego!" Harry, Ron, Hermione and Malfoy shouted almost simultaneously and managed to protect themselves by a hair.

The three men drew nearer. One of them engaged Malfoy in a battle. Hermione remembered Tuesday evening, when she had seen, how fast the young Slytherin could dodge and fire back.

A second masked man lunged at Ron, who wasn't frozen anymore, but was fighting embittered.

The third man was coming towards Harry and Hermione, who shifted closer to each other. The way the man was moving – Hermione gasped. It was –

"Snape!" Harry hissed beside her, his voice soaked with anger.

Harry yelled: "Stupor!"

Hermione shouted "Expelliarmus!" at the same time.

But their former teacher blocked both curses effortlessly.

"I told you, Potter," he said with cold, scornful voice, "it will never work this way." He came closer to them and it seemed as if he had never done anything else in his life than deflecting curses and hexes. Although Harry and Hermione were two people, they couldn't touch one single greasy hair on his head.

"I've expected more of you too, Miss Granger." Snape's black eyes flashed. His wand shot forward and Hermione was flung through the air, landing against the wall of Baker's Books.

The face contorted in pain, she tried to raise her wand, but it didn't work. She couldn't move. Her legs hurt and felt like burning with fire. Her back, which had just recovered, seemed to have sustained new bruises of the stone wall. But the worst of all was her right arm. It quivered slightly and felt like having been stuck into a basin full of piranhas. Each inch hurt, as if sharp teeth were piercing into its skin. Hermione groaned, her eyes filling with tears.

But when her glance fell on Harry, who struggled to fight against Snape, she was distracted from her own agony. Snape was still dodging Harry and didn't bother to curse him, as if he was playing with him. Harry's face was twisted with overwhelming hate, while he shouted one curse after another.

Suddenly and unexpectedly Hermione's pain subsided. Her legs felt normal again. Her arm was merely tingling lightly. Only her back tormented her and the fact that she still wasn't able to move a finger.

"AAAHHHHH!"

Hermione's heart stopped for several seconds, when she heard the cry.

She could barely turn her head, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron lying on the floor, the arm strangely twisted, his wand one meter away from his hand. The Death Eater stood above him, raising his wand slowly and threateningly, shouting: "Crucio!"

"RON!" Hermione called with all her might. She had to helplessly watch him scream, twitch and desperately try to stay conscious.

Hermione yelled at the Death Eater to stop. His cruel laugh drowned her begging out.

She wanted to avert her glance, but her eyes seemed to be frozen as well. She didn't manage to turn away and silently pleaded for a miracle.


	10. Realizations

**Chapter 10 – Realizations**

Another cry diverted her and even bigger horror spread inside of her.

When she let her eyes wander in the direction the scream came from, she saw relieved that the other Death Eater had sunk to the ground. Malfoy was now shouting: "Incarcerus!" Ropes shot from his wand and wrapped around the Death Eater, who lost his footing and fell. But Malfoy didn't wait to watch. He hurried to Ron, who had stopped screaming and now suffered from his terrible pains silently.

"Stupor!" Malfoy panted. The shocking curse hit the unprepared Death Eater right in the back, who fell to the ground unconsciously.

Hermione saw Ron's chest rising unnaturally fast. He didn't stand up.

Malfoy turned around to help Harry. But he was Stupefied by Snape at that very moment. Snape hurried towards the Death Eater, swung his wand and lifted the man into the air. He did the same to the unconscious Death Eaters lying a few feet away from Malfoy. Before they registered what he was doing, Snape grabbed both of them and Disapparated in front of them.

Hermione exhaled relieved.

Harry was rid of his stupor and hastened to Ron, who was trying to stand up. Harry and Malfoy bend down and helped him into a sitting position. He looked pale as death, the hair sticking to his forehead in sweat.

Harry and Malfoy supported him, as he stood up with shaking legs, on the verge of tilting over. They guided him towards the wall, which he leaned against, panting for air.

Harry ran to Hermione.

"Hermione! Are you alright? Can you stand up?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her up. She noticed with relief that she apparently was able to move again.

"Yeah – it's – ah – it's alright," she gasped.

"We have to go back!" Harry called out to Malfoy. Malfoy nodded and Disapparated a few seconds later, tightly clutching Ron's arm. Harry and Hermione followed suit.

They appeared in front of Number 12 and hastened up the stone stairs. Like in Hogwarts it was impossible to Apparate into the house Disapparate from there. Only if you are already inside, you can Apparate to other rooms of the house.

Breathing heavily, Harry and Hermione shut the door behind them and followed Malfoy and Ron into the kitchen.

Ron sank onto a chair and stared at Malfoy with wide eyes, as if he were the eighth wonder of the world.

Hermione's eyes fell onto his right arm. "Ron!" she screamed and rushed to him, almost losing her balance.

"What happened?" His arm was sticking out from him in a very strange angel and his sleeve was torn to pieces.

"You saved my life", Ron said befuddled. He didn't take his eyes off Malfoy.

"Thanks, I noticed too. Just as Snape noticed that I'm with you…" The Slytherin also took a seat.

"But – "

"Ron! How did that happen?" Hermione asked, grabbing Ron's arm.

"Ouch! Ahh!" Ron panted, when she touched him.

"Is it broken?" Harry asked.

"I – don't – know", Ron answered, his face wreathing in pain. "It was – a – curse."

"Let me try to heal it", Hermione said, pulling out her wand. "Episkey!" she called.

Nothing changed.

"Well?" Hermione asked, increasingly worried.

Ron moved his arm a little. "Ahh… it didn't get – ouch – better," he ground out.

"You can't heal the curse with a counter- spell," Malfoy explained.

"What?" Ron shouted upset, staring at him with panic. "Do I have to keep my arm like this forever?"

"Only for the next two to three weeks," Malfoy said, grinning lightly, when Ron gave an indefinable sound.

"The only cure is a potion. I think, you need 17 days to make it, but I'm not really sure."

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

"Ex- dark- wizard, did you forget?" Malfoy answered.

"Is it a complicated potion?" Hermione asked.

"You can make it, Granger. The question is rather, where to get the ingredients from," the Slytherin said with a strange expression.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted frustrated.

"Can we find the recipe in one of the book?" Hermione asked, throwing Ron a pitiful glance.

"Sure," Malfoy replied. "I'll go showering," he added in a low voice und stood up.

"Do you think…" Harry started, sitting down, "I should have told Snape about my mother's letter?"

Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I mean, it was her only request…" Harry said, staring ahead with glassy eyes. "Don't I owe it to her?"

"Listen, Harry," Hermione said. "If your mother had known, what had become of Snape, she wouldn't have asked you to do it. Besides he was about to kill or abduct you. You didn't even have the chance to tell him anything. You had to fight for your life after all!"

"Yes, but what if – "

"Harry, don't rack your brain about it. You didn't tell him, because you couldn't. Let it go, okay?"

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"Fine. Then I'll go look for the recipe," Hermione said.

"Okay. And I'll start reading the book," Harry said, pointing at _The four Founders: Secrets and Facts_, which was lying on the table.

Ron sighed heartbreakingly.

"You are lucky, Ron," Hermione said, when she banged a potions book onto the kitchen table a few minutes later. "It only takes 13 days. The ingredients are easy to find, but I don't think that anyone of us wants to return to Nocturn or Diagon Alley."

"13 days? The important thing is, I'll be fit for the wedding," Ron murmured.

Hermione went through the list of ingredients again. "Maybe we can find something in this house? Bloom of Dittany… salamander blood… stinging nettle… Doxy hair… hmm…"

"Do we even have a cauldron here?" Ron asked.

"Don't worry, there are more than enough of them here," Hermione answered.

"So, Harry, have you already found anything important?"

"Nope. I'm still at Helga's thirteenth birthday," Harry said, yawning.

"Give it to me," Hermione reached out for the book. "You look for ingredients in the meantime. Here is the list." She gave Harry the recipe and turned her attention to the book about the Founders. The black- haired boy went looking for the ingredients with damped eagerness.

"I'm hungry," Ron mumbled, standing up cautiously to fetch an apple.

Ron was already eating his third apple, when Malfoy came back, a small black suitcase under his arm. He placed it on the table und opened it.

"Where did you get it?" Hermione asked surprised, examining the case, which contained all sorts of vials and tins. Some were filled with liquids, others held powder, claws or dried leaves.

"Never heard of a portable apothecary?" Malfoy said, taking a seat.

"I haven't thought of anything like that…" Hermione murmured.

"Well, I'm simply foresighted," Malfoy smirked. "What do you need for the potion?"

"Harry has the list of ingredients," Hermione said. She couldn't believe her or rather Ron's luck. She took one of the vials out of the case, which was filled with transparent liquid. It was labeled _Coneflower dew_.

"And where is Potter?" Malfoy asked.

Harry appeared a few minutes later, his face as long as a fiddle.

"We have practically everything here except these things," he explained contritely, tapping his finger on the page of the book, which showed the recipe. "I have only been able to find Doxy hair. On the old curtains."

"Give it to me," Hermione demanded. Harry handed the book to her.

They compared which ingredients they needed and which of them Malfoy could provide.

Ron truly seemed to have a guardian angel, for all ingredients, that were required, were in Malfoy's portable apothecary.

"Fortunately the potion is simple," Hermione noticed. She had already cleaned a cauldron and started to boil water in it.

"Malfoy… I think… I owe you one, don't I?" Ron asked in the evening, while watching Hermione working on the cauldron.

"I don't think there is anything that can settle the debt. But have you always repaid Potter and Granger for saving your butt?"

"No, but – "

"Well then, we don't want to change the habit," Malfoy said simply.

Hermione couldn't help throwing Malfoy an appreciative glance, which he returned with a smug grin.

She added 13 drops of salamander blood to the water, let it boil for another six and a half minutes and then put the fire out.

"So, it has to stay like that for two days, then we have to add salamander blood once more, then wait another two days, before adding the Doxy hairs," she explained. She took a seat next to the boys.

Hermione continued to read about Hogwarts' Founders, having soon finished with Helga's and Rowena's childhood, without even the slightest hint. Nevertheless she liked the book, for it contained plenty of information, which she hadn't known so far.

In the meantime Harry, Ron and Malfoy chatted about Quidditch. They debated who would take their places in the house teams and how the encounters would end.

"Hufflepuff we can write off easily," Ron said. "The only usable players they had finished their N.E.W.T.s. They will never win a single game."

"You don't have a top team either," Malfoy chipped in.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked.

"Usually Quidditch is about the Beaters driving the bludgers into the _opponents_. You Gryffindors however decided last year, with your incredible creativity, that it would be much more exciting, if the _Keeper_ bangs the bludger into his _own_ Seeker," Malfoy said. He seemed to struggle with keeping a straight face.

"You mean McLaggen? That bloody a-"

"Granger," Malfoy drawled.

Having an uneasy sense of what was going to come, Hermione pretented not to be listening.

"Is it true that you were dating McLaggen?"

Hermione felt herself blushing and forced herself not to look up. Don't show any reaction, she told herself. Just continue reading. He will drop it eventually.

"Does that mean Yes?" Malfoy insisted. You could practically hear his grin. Hermione felt the strong urge to kick his shinbone with all her strength. "I don't know whom to pity more," Malfoy murmured, supposedly thoughtfully. "How long have you two been dating? Or are you still going out?"

Hermione raised her head und called: "No!"

"Oooh, someone seems to be still really upset about the breakup," Malfoy said, looking at her with a what-a-bad-luck-face.

"Shut up!" Ron snapped. He had also blushed.

Malfoy looked from Ron to Hermione.

"Weasley! Are you jealous?"

"No, I'm not!" Ron hissed. His face became even redder.

"You are a bad liar," Malfoy said. He seemed to have a ripping good time, while observing Ron's face.

"Enough!" Hermione shouted. "I have neither been going out with McLaggen… not really anyway – nor is Ron jealous! And if I hear one more word from you about it, you will regret it!"

"Do you want to _attack me from behind_?" Malfoy said, throwing her a meaningful glance.

Hermione sighed. "No, I won't. But you know what I find interesting? How you could bear being with Parkinson!"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"That pug- faced, brainless jellyfish… that you could mess around with someone like that!" Hermione said, supposedly shocked.

"What do you mean mess around? She is in my house. I can't change that fact!"

"Just in your house? Come one, do you really think, no one noticed that there was something going on between you?"

"And even if that's true, it's none of your business!" Malfoy said.

"It's as much my business as my relationship to Cormac or Ron is yours," Hermione answered matter-of-factly.

"So you have a relationship with Weasley?"

"No!"

"Had?"

"No!"

"Good."

"What?"

"It would have been a pity…"

"Come again? Why are you starting it again?" Hermione asked angrily, interpreting his comment as a hint to her blood.

"I didn't start anything, Granger."

"If you say so, _Malfoy_."

No one said a word for a while.

Hermione turned back to Godric's birth, but she had barely read one sentence, when Harry broke the silence.

"Listen… don't you find it… well, isn't it strange that we are not on first- name terms?"

Ron's jaw dropped. "You mean that we are not on first- name terms _with him_! I don't find it strange at all!"

"Ron, _he_ saved your life and your arm today," Harry remarked.

"Well, yeah, but he is still Malfoy! And in his disfavour is the living hell he put us through a thousand of times!"

"Come one, _Ronnie_," Malfoy prompted. "What harm can it do?"

Ron stood up so suddenly that Hermione dropped her book. Ron groaned in pain. He had bumped his jinxed arm into the back of a chair.

"Don't – call – me – that, _Drakie_", he hissed.

"As you wish, _Pansy_", the blond murmured, shrugging.

"_Pansy!_" Ron repeated, sitting down again. "Why _Pansy_!"

"Because she always used to call me Drakie," Malfoy answered with a bored voice. "What's the matter, _Mione_?"

Hermione seemed to be petrified on her chair, leaning forward slightly and her arm stretched towards the floor. She was staring at the book, which had fallen to the ground. It had opened at a page that showed a chart. Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from it.

She slowly picked up the book, placing it onto the table in front of her.

"I think, I've got it," she breathed.

"What is it?" Ron asked confusedly.

"Give me the pencil over there… _Draco_," Hermione said, pointing to the sideboard behind Draco.

He handed it to her, eyebrows raised.

Hermione scribbled a few words in capital letters on the chart, while a triumphant smile spread across her face. She pushed the book over the table towards Harry, Ron and Draco.

_**The elements and the Founders**_

_House – Element – Tarot item_

_Gryffindor – Fire – lance – RAVENCLAW_

_Ravenclaw – Air – sword – GRYFFINDOR_

_Hufflepuff – Earth – disk – SLYTHERIN (LOCKET)_

_Slytherin – Water – cup – HUFFLEPUFF_

"Uh… Hermione? What is that supposed to tell us?" Ron asked, looking at her perplexedly.

"Listen. You see the elements here, which can be attributed to each House. Gryffindor stands for fire, Ravenclaw for air, Hufflepuff for earth and Slytherin for water. Each one of the elements can be matched to one Tarot item. Look here: the lance belongs to fire, the sword to air, the disk or the coin to earth, but I think the locket can pass for it too. And finally there are water and the cup. Do you notice anything? Let's take Slytherin and Hufflepuff for example. Hufflepuff's element is the earth, the item is the disk. But the item Riddle got from Helga is a cup! The cup belongs to the element of water, thus to Slytherin. Vice versa, Slytherin possessed the locket, which we connect to Hufflepuff! Do you see?"

"Well… you mean… uh… no, I don't," Ron murmured, completely confused.

"That's not all. Where did Riddle hide Slytherin's locket? Right! In a lake, Slytherin, under the earth, Hufflepuff! It would fit perfectly! According to that, Hufflepuff's cup has to be in a place connected to water and earth. The sword is in Hogwarts, so we don't have to look for it anymore. We have to find the locket and something that belonged to Rowena that is at a place with fire and air, probably a lance," Hermione finished. Her face glowed with enthusiasm.

She looked at the boys expectantly.

"That would make sense…" Draco murmured. "The four Founders, as well as the four Elements, unite to form the fifth element."

"Fifth element?" Harry asked.

"Magic," Draco said. "The four founders united and established Hogwarts to teach magic. Riddle placed his soul fragments into the items of the four elements. That means if you join the four elements together, you get the fifth element, magic. He equalizes himself with the fifth element, with magic. He, who is powerful and immortal. That means by creating the Horcruxes he splintered his soul and figuratively the four elements."

"Wait a minute…" Hermione leafed through the book and soon found what she was looking for: pictures of the Founders. Though Helga Hufflepuff didn't carry a cup with her, there was a sword to be seen on Gryffindor's belt, sticking in an ornate sheath. On closer inspection they could see a round locket around Salazar Slytherin's neck. The black- haired Rowena Ravenclaw was only holding a wand.

"The wand?" Ron asked.

"Possible," Hermione said.

"It would sort of fit to Riddle. Everything is so... connected to Hogwarts and… magic, you know what I mean?" Harry said.

They discussed the idea the whole day long and debated where Hufflepuff's cup and Ravenclaw's flute or wand could be found.

In addition they decided to turn the house upside-down to search for the locket.


	11. Unexpected visitor

**Chapter 11 – Unexpected visitor**

Ron quickly got used to not being able to do anything but sit around the kitchen, while Harry, Hermione and Draco were searching the whole house for the locket. They cast Summoning Charms on each room, tried to find secret hiding- places by magic and rummaged through every trunk, every cupboard, every corner. But they couldn't find Salazar Slytherin's locket.

They had spent many days with the search. In the meantime Hermione had looked after the healing potion for Ron's arm, which had now adopted the mentioned bluish tone. Ron only had to wait for another week, till his arm would be free of pain again.

The three Gryffindors had got used to call Draco by his first name. He followed suit, even though rarely without a sneer.

Life at Grimmauldplace went by rather uneventfully, after they had given up their search for the Horcrux. The only thing they could do was reading or playing wizard chess. Draco had turned out to be on the same level as Harry, which meant you couldn't predict the outcome in the first place anymore. Provided that Draco was willing to descend to playing with Harry.

The days went by and eventually Hermione had added the last ingredient to the potion. She scooped the warm mixture into a glass und gave it to Ron.

"You have to drink it now, otherwise it will lose its effect," she explained.

Ron looked into the glass suspiciously. "Do I have to drink everything?"

Hermione nodded.

"Okay…" He sniffed, grimacing in disgust.

"Come one, Ron," Hermione ordered sternly.

Ron squinted his eyes and lifted the glass to his lips. He choked down the liquid with big gulps, banging the glass on the table afterwards.

"Ick!" he exclaimed with a face he usually saved for spiders.

Suddenly his arm began to shake, which continued for a minute.

Ron raised it cautiously. Then he shouted happily: "Healed! I'm healed! Thanks, Hermione!"

Hermione smiled and went back to the cauldron. "Evanesco!" she said which caused the spare potion to vanish.

Hermione could barely believe that they have been living here for over four weeks now.

It was the night before Bill and Fleur's wedding. They were sitting in the kitchen like always.

"I don't think that you can come along," Ron said doubtfully. "What are we supposed to tell my family?"

"Of course you'll come along! We are now a… a… team… or something like that. Anyway, we'll stick together, remember?" Hermione replied determinedly.

"It's not about excluding you," Harry said. "But Ron is completely right. People will be totally shocked and put you under constant fire, before we have the opportunity to explain anything!"

"Don't be ridiculous! Mrs. Weasley would never attack a child!"

"Child?"

"You know, what I mean," Hermione said impatiently. "The point is that it would be unfair to leave you here alone. We just tell some story and – "

"Some story? Hermione! No one would believe_ some_ story!" Ron called. "Besides… well, it would be a little strange to have you at the wedding… so… don't be mad… but…" Ron was desperately searching for the right words. Hermione used the opportunity to continue.

"Fine! I'll think of something convincing! But either you come with us or we all stay here!"

"WHAT?"

"One for all and all for one," Hermione said, which earned her dismayed glances.

Draco had followed the discussion about himself with an amused expression, but now he couldn't contain himself any longer and burst out laughing.

"You – are – completely – mental," he gasped.

Hermione, Ron and Harry fell silent, looking at him offended, as if his laughter were a personal attack.

"Why don't you ask me, if I want to come along, first? Maybe I don't feel the need to be surrounded by Weasleys for three whole days."

"You are coming with us!" Hermione said strictly, pointing her finger at him.

"Actually I don't care."

"You see, Hermione? He doesn't want to come anyway!" Ron said triumphantly.

"I didn't say that, Ronnie."

"So you are coming?" Hermione asked.

"Hey, are you all deaf? I said I _don't_ _care_. I don't! That means neither yes nor no!" Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Then let's vote. Democratically," Ron said. "You abstain from the vote. So – "

"Ron! Don't be silly! That's ridiculous!" Hermione hissed.

"You only say that because you know that Harry and I would vote against you!"

"Well… yes. But just think about how you would feel, if you were stuck here alone for three days, while the others enjoy themselves in France?"

"But he is neither friend nor family!"

"Speaking of family," Draco murmured, putting on an indefinable expression. "There will be not only Weasleys, but the Delacours as well… they were Veelas, weren't they? I think I'll come along…"

"_What?_"

"You've got to be kidding me! That's so _typical_!" Hermione snapped.

"Hey, we're doing it your way, Mione," Draco grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "That's settled then. I'll convince Mrs. Weasley, so no objections anymore."

"Fine, we'll Apparate tomorrow at a quarter to five," Harry said defeated.

"Then you think of something. I don't take any responsibility, if you end up looking like a perforated piece of cheese… speaking of which, I'm hungry," Ron informed them. He stood up and started to set the table.

He had barely placed plates onto the table, when they heard a voice from the door.

"I didn't know that you keep prisoners nowadays!"

"GINNY!" Harry, Ron and Hermione called. They jumped up and rushed to the red- headed girl standing in the entrance with a big grin.

"Ginny! Are you out of your mind? Do you realize how dangerous it is to show up here like that? How did you get here? Did you Apparate here on your own? Just imagine, what could have happened – "

"_Ron_!" Ginny shouted, drowning out Ron's gibberish. She had hugged Harry and Hermione and kissed each of them on the cheek.

"Hello to you too, bro'!" she said, when Ron had finally shut up. She planted a kiss on his cheek as well.

"So, what's the matter with him?" she asked, pointing to Draco, who was sitting at the table alone.

"He is now on our side," Hermione replied matter- of- factly. "He is helping us on our search for the Horcruxes."

"Well, in this case," Ginny said, as if it were perfectly normal. She walked towards Draco. "Welcome to the club," she said and kissed him on the cheek.

"GINEVRA WEASLEY!" Ron yelled. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

Hermione and Harry exchanged a grinning glance, when Ron turned red like a tomato, while shooting his sister and Draco deadly stares.

"Why?" Ginny asked with an innocent face.

"Why! You gave Draco Malfoy a… _kiss_!"

"You said he is one of us now," Ginny said, shrugging.

"Yes! But… but… you can't just… you just can't… believe…" Ron stuttered, making a surly gesture with his hand.

Harry and Hermione couldn't contain themselves anymore and burst out with laughter.

"What is it?" Ron asked irritated. He obviously felt himself betrayed.

"Nothing," Hermione snorted. "We should sit down."

"How did you get here, Ginny?" Harry asked, when they were seated around the table again.

"Fred and George brought me here. I thought I'd drop by and stay over. You don't mind, do you?"

"Quite the opposite," Hermione assured.

"Now tell me, why did the ferret decide on a changeover?"

Hermione was slightly surprised that Ginny had apparently accepted the news completely calmly. When you really think about it, even too calmly. At the same time she was extremely thankful for it.

It was a cozy evening with Ginny. They laughed a lot and listened to Fred and George's newest stories.

"Speaking of them," Ginny said, "I'm supposed to tell you from Bill and Fleur that they are sorry you didn't get any invitations… Fred and George did something with them…"

"Oh, that's beautiful! Where did you get it?" Ginny asked, when she was standing in the bathroom with Hermione, preparing themselves for the wedding.

"My aunt gave it to me as a present," Hermione answered, examining her dress in the mirror critically.

It was of a pale green color. The broad straps ran together at the neck and half her back was uncovered. The dress was tight- fitting till the waist and then fell to the knees casually.

"Don't you find it a little too… bold?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"I think you look really nice," Ginny said, pointing her wand at her red hair, which was now combed by an invisible brush.

"Well, I mean, isn't it too… provocative?"

"Nonsense! It's just right! Completely normal! And even if… maybe there are some French men, who it's worth to look provocative for?" Ginny said, grinning.

"Oh, I don't know…" Hermione murmured, turning in front of the mirror.

"But I know," Ginny said.

"I could just extend it a little bit and the back – "

"Hermione! Don't you dare touch the dress! It's completely normal and not at all exorbitant or whatever!"

"Fine, Ginny. If you say so," Hermione sighed.

Both girls continued tending to their hair. Hermione flattened hers and pinned it up similarly to the Christmas Ball in fourth grade. Only a few loose curls framed her face.

Ginny wore a pale red dress, which went to her knees. It was only held by two thin straps and suited her perfectly. Hermione could vividly imagine Ron's face at this sight.

"Are you ready?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, we can go." They left the bathroom and turned to the stairs, when Ginny stopped suddenly. She ran her hand over her hair, shouting: "Oh damn, I have to go back! My hair is collapsing any moment!" She turned on her heels and hurried back.

"Hurry up!" Hermione yelled after her. It was already 16:35 and they were supposed to Disapparate in ten minutes.

Hermione slowly walked down the stairs. She didn't want to risk losing her footing on her high thin heels and falling down the stairs on her butt. She knew that her worries were ungrounded, for her heels were neither extremely high nor thin, but she just wasn't used to this sort of footwear.

When Hermione arrived at the kitchen door, she couldn't help but pause briefly. Neither Harry nor Ron had ever seen her dressed like that, but her main worry was Draco. She already feared his comments, for this time she found it difficult to believe in her own resolutions: to just let him talk and not respond to it.

Squaring her shoulders, Hermione raised her head and opened the door.

Ron and Harry were at the table. They were both wearing white shirts, their jackets draped over the back of their chairs, since the Black's house wasn't spared the bright summer sun.

Ron was chewing on an apple with a bored expression, till Hermione came into his sight. Harry just managed to pull himself together, but Ron gawped at her openly.

Hermione tried to act as normal as possible, when she walked to a chair.

"Hermione… you look… nice," Ron murmured sheepishly.

Hermione tried not to blush, but she couldn't suppress a fleeting grin. Maybe there really was a nice French man, who thought the same?

"A gentleman through and through, aren't you, Ronnie? Your gift to cast compliments is truly astonishing," Draco said. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

He hadn't taken off his jacket. It was black like almost all his clothes. Only isolated details were silver and made of expensive material.

"At least _he_ can cast some," Harry said. "Compared to you, Dracie."

"Oho! What are you suggesting?"

"I think you know exactly."

"You mean he exceeds me in stammering "You… look… nice" in this dinky kitchen?"

He turned to Hermione. "Where is little Weasley anyway?"

"She's on her way," Hermione answered, "she just has to – "

At the same moment Ginny swept into the kitchen.

"Sorry! I hope we don't get late! We don't want to miss the Portkey! Are you coming?"

Hermione's glance first fell on Harry, who apparently had to restrain himself from claiming Ginny for the rest of the evening.

Ron's face showed a completely different expression. He opened his mouth, taking a deep breath –

"Ron, not now! Come with me!" Ginny called, dragging her brother to the door.

They quickly left the house and Apparated to the Burrow.


	12. The wedding

**Chapter 12 – The wedding**

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley squealed, pulling the black-haired boy into a tight embrace.

"Hermione! Ron! Ginny, honey!" They had to go through the same treatment.

"How are you? Is everything alright? I have – " Only now did her glance fall on Draco, who was exploring the Burrow's living room with his eyes, apparently trying to keep a straight face.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes darkened. The smile faded from her face, as if she had taken off a mask. "What is this… this _person_ doing in my house?" She pointed her wand at Draco threateningly, who didn't seem to know, whether it was a reason for worry or for amusement.

Hermione stepped forward. She had thought of the most obvious excuse and now said with firm voice: "He is our new spy. It had been planned that way, if Snape was to die… or… or if what happened was to happen. No reason to be alarmed, Mrs. Weasley. He is giving us important information."

"Why haven't I heard of it?" Mrs. Weasley asked suspiciously.

"He is a spy! It's very risky. Snape must not know that Draco would take his place, you know? The less people know about it, the better."

Mrs. Weasley examined Hermione, frowning, then turned to Harry. "Harry, dear. What is this all about? This Malfoy-boy wanted to cast the Cruciatus curse on you last year! He was responsible for all – "

"Look, Mrs. Weasley. I know that it's hard to believe. But it's true," Harry said calmingly, "he saved Ron's life a couple of weeks ago!"

Harry told her about the incidence in Nocturn Alley. This fact and the time pressure seemed to satisfy Mrs. Weasley for the time being.

"Very well then. But now off to the garden. Or we'll be late."

In the garden Fred, George and Mr. Weasley were already gathered around a rusty watering can.

"Good. Everybody to the can – FRED!"

Fred had barely laid eyes on Draco, when he rushed forward and grabbed the blond by his collar. He tried to fight him to the ground, insulting him with all kinds of swearwords. George hastened towards them, pointing his wand at Draco's head. Mr. Weasley also pulled out his wand.

Draco had composed himself quickly after a scream of horror, trying to stay on his feet. But George forced him to the ground with his wand.

"Fred! George! Stop!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "NOW!"

The twins paused, panting.

"Mum!" Fred yelled. "How did this louse get here?"

"We'll kill him right now and here," George growled, rubbing his hands.

"Be quiet and come here! I'll explain it to you in a minute, but if we don't hurry, we'll be late! Now come on!"

Fred and George made no move at all.

"Come on, Mum is right," Ginny said impatiently.

"What the hell? Are you completely mad?" Fred asked angrily, taking his eyes off of Draco to stare at Ginny. "This is the bloody Malfoy rat that has the Dark Mark on his arm!"

"You are supposed to come here and let him go!" Mrs. Weasley called impatiently.

"If you say so," George said, standing up. "But don't you think we have forgiven you for inviting a mob of Death Eaters!" He and Fred grabbed the watering can, both with murderous eyes. Somehow Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco managed to lay a finger on the rusty metal.

They didn't have to wait for long, till the Portkey put them in a most uncomfortable state. Hermione felt the pull behind her navel, before her feet met the ground again. The impact was so vehement that she lost her balance on her heels. She flapped her arms wildly, latching onto someone to avoid falling to the ground.

This someone was Draco. Hermione had grabbed his forearm, holding it for a while to win back her balance.

When she had the feeling that she could stand on her own again, she let go off Draco's arm hastily and murmured sheepishly: "Damn shoes…"

Hermione avoided his eyes, looking around her instead.

They had landed on a green meadow of the size of a football pitch, seemingly in the middle of a large forest. On the left there was a small, pretty mansion with a narrow path leading to it. The route was lined with countless white-colored flowers, connecting mansion and meadow.

On the other side there were round, white tables, which could each accommodate a dozen of people. In some distance Hermione could see a farraginous crowd of witches and wizards. Robes and dresses in all kinds of colors glistened in the bright sunlight, while their wearers were chatting excitedly in English and French. Over the whole scene hundreds of blossoms soared through the air gently. They seemed to never leave the area above the meadow, swirling in circles over the vivid crowd.

Hermione barely noticed Mrs. Weasley trying to convince the twins and her husband of Draco's life as a spy, for she was enamored by the sight.

"Bonjour!" someone called behind them. A slim woman with long shiny hair and a pretty face glided towards them. Hermione assumed rightly that this was Fleur's mother.

"Bonjour, Mesdames, messieurs. Ah, excuse moi. Welcome! I am delighted to see you."

„Ah, Mrs. Delacour," Mrs. Weasley said, greeting the half-veela.

"Allez-y!" She escorted the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Draco towards the crowd.

"Now almost everyone 'as arrived." Mrs. Delacour disappeared again. In her position a young witch with a tray in her left hand spoke to them.

"Vous voulez un verre à champagne?" she asked, offering them an aperitif.

Hermione tried to understand some of the French spoken around them. But most of the time she only picked up single snippets of conversation or words.

"... elle a parlé de la grève..."

"... aller à la Côte d'Azur?"

"...oui, oui, ça va bien! Merci! Et vous?"

Hermione turned around and saw Lupin and Tonks, hand in hand.

They came over to them and greeted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who spent the next five minutes convincing them of Draco's good intentions.

"It's beautiful here," Tonks sighed, when she came to Hermione and the others. "I wish I could stay for three days too!"

"Where are we staying anyway?" Ginny asked. "In the mansion?"

"Yes, that's what we agreed on."

"You're really lu- OH! Here we go!" Tonks called suddenly, pointing to the mansion.

In front of the flowers there was a stage, where a slim, tall man was talking to Mrs. Delacour. He was draped in elegant purple ropes, ornate with golden adornments.

The witches and wizards gathered on the meadow before it, falling silent gradually, when the man raised his voice and Fleur's mother left the stage.

"I bid you welcome on behalf of the bride and groom and the hosts! We have gathered here today for one purpose! Namely…"

"Why is he speaking English?" Harry asked. "There are much more French people here, aren't there?"

"I think he is speaking French. He must have used some spell so that we understand him as well," Hermione whispered.

"… for these two people, who found and came to love each other in times of war." When the man had ended, he stepped aside.

Bill and Fleur entered the stage from the back.

"She looks amazing!" Tonks breathed behind Hermione. Hermione absolutely agreed with her.

Although Fleur was always extraordinarily pretty as granddaughter of a Veela, she seemed to radiate with beauty today. Her hair was loose and yet it seemed as if someone had placed each strand at the proper spot. It fell onto her shoulders gently, framing her delicate face. She didn't wear any make-up, for it probably would have covered her beauty. She was smiling happily, while she stepped forward with Bill.

Her snow-white dress seemed to be glowing. Hermione couldn't say if it was due to the rays of sunlight, that the fabric was glistening like that, or due to a charm. The dress seemed to fit Fleur's figure perfectly. Her shoulders were free, only covered by a transparent silken scarf. The dress fell to the ground, ending in a long train.

Bill was dressed in dark robes. His bright red hair was tied together as always. Hermione could see from her seat that he had dispensed with his fang earring today. He was smiling deliriously with joy. Even the traces Fenrir Greyback's attack had left on his face couldn't lessen his happiness.

The man in purple now stepped in front of the couple and spoke to them.

After a few moments he paused and took Fleur's delicate hand, placing it in Bill's big one. "Now my part is over. Let the magic and love pronounce them husband and wife!" He stepped back.

It was now completely silent. Everyone was staring at the young couple mesmerized, whose hands were slowly linked by a golden light. It was growing, beaming more and more, until they couldn't see their hands anymore.

Fleur and Bill moved closer together, leaned in and kissed.

When their lips separated again, the golden light swelled even more – then it vanished suddenly. Bill and Fleur raised their hands. Both were wearing a silver ring on their finger.

The crowed began to cheer.

Bill put his arms around his wife, kissing her exuberantly, when Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Delacour rushed up the stage to embrace the newly weds. Apparently Mrs. Weasley had finally let go of her aversion against Fleur. She hugged the young woman affectionately.

The crowd was now pouring onto the stage, congratulating Bill and Fleur and bringing them presents. When all good wished and hugs were done, the party moved to the tables.

Bit by bit everybody found a seat and Mrs. Delacour gave the waitresses the signal to serve soups.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, the twins and Draco had settled down at one of the round tables and sipped on their soups.

They were delicious and Hermione felt almost sated afterwards. But that was just the beginning. Under a bright blue sky and with exuberant mood the party consumed salads, a main menu consisting of all kinds of meat, fish and vegetables and eventually a dessert.

Hermione was used to the feasts at Hogwarts, but she hadn't felt so full for a long time. She leaned back in her seat, listening to the babel of voices and the clinking of the glasses.

It felt great to leave Grimmauldplace behind and be among people again. At the table next to them sat Charlie, Lupin and Tonks with other members of the Order and several tables further were Bill and Fleur with their parents.

They sat there for some time, chatting about this and that. Harry talked with Lupin about their visit to Godric's Hollow and Aberforth Dumbledore.

Hermione noticed happily that Lupin was holding Tonks' hand the whole time. Both seemed to have a really good time. Hermione couldn't think of any other people, who had deserved to be with a woman like Tonks more than Lupin.

Sometime a group of French wizards Apparated. They were obviously responsible for the music, for they arranged magic instruments on the stage. Soon several test tones were to be heard and shortly afterwards they began to play.

The party seemed perfect.

Eventually it was time for the first dance of the newly weds.

Bill and Fleur and with them everybody else rose from their seats. The guests gathered around the dance floor, while Bill and Fleur started their first dance in the middle. Fleur's movements were graceful and elegant and she was smiling happily. Bill's grin couldn't have been wider either, as he floated over the lawn with Fleur. They danced and danced and seemed to barely notice their surroundings. Soon other couples joined them.

Harry offered Ginny his hand, which she accepted grinningly. They went towards the dance floor.

Draco, Fred and George walked away and shortly afterwards Hermione could spot all three of them in French company on the lawn. Fred and George's partner didn't seem to approve of their wild way of dancing, so the twins quickly bethought of the conventional fashion.

Apparently Draco had enjoyed as many dancing lessons as manner lessons. He moved as elegant as Fleur and seemed to master each step perfectly, without having to think about it. With his shiny bright hair Hermione thought he could have passed for some sort of male Veela.

"Ehem," Ron cleared his throat behind her. "Do you want to… dance?" he asked, turning slightly red.

Hermione nodded, smilingly, and took Ron's hand.

She knew that Ron was neither an enthusiastic nor particularly talented dancer, the latter of which she thought of herself too. But Hermione enjoyed dancing very much. Already at the Christmas party with Viktor it had been like that.

She and Ron danced for a while, but soon enough he led her back to their table again.

They sat there silently, watched the couples dance and occasionally sipped on their drinks.

"I can't really believe it," Ron murmured. "Bill is married now. Then Charlie next! And then… you think Fred and George will ever get married?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione said. She found the thought somehow amusing. "Did they even ever have a girlfriend?"

Ron shrugged.

"They probably would have to meet a pair of twins…"

„Probably."

Suddenly they heard a cry and it took Hermione several moments to realize that _she_ was called by someone.

"HERMIONE!" She turned around, searching the dance floor for the person. She found one of the twins waving at her.

She stood up puzzled, pushing her way through the crowd.

"What's the matter?" she asked the redhead.

"Do you want to dance?" he returned. Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I'm sure you are not as boring as those French girls," the twin explained, winking. He offered her his hand.

Hermione accepted without hesitation.

In the next moment she was swirled around, almost losing her footing.

"George!" she screamed, trying desperately not to trip.

"I'm Fred!" he shouted. "Hermione, relax!"

She tried to follow his advice, while he spun her around. But Hermione noticed that it actually was fun.

The other couples were keeping a safety distance, but Fred did not seem to mind at all. Hermione, having never danced as wild and fast, felt less and less ridiculous and soon couldn't suppress a grin anymore.

They danced for several songs, but then Hermione wanted to sit down tiredly and pulled Fred to their table. Harry, Ron, Ginny and George were all sitting there, laughing. Hermione and Fred joined them.

Time seemed to fly past. With the twins they laughed as they hadn't done in a long time, forgetting their worries and not having to endure comments from Draco.

Draco never got tired of dancing, so it seemed to Hermione, for he had danced with almost every French girl, who was present.

Hermione didn't miss the meaningful glances Harry and Ginny exchanged every now and then. She wished Harry would just take back what he had told her in Hogwarts. After all Voldemort knew about her and Ron too, why should Ginny be in greater danger?

"Do you want somezing to eat?" The waitress had appeared beside them und was offering them salads, baguettes, dips, which they accepted thankfully.

During the evening Ginny and Harry danced for several times together and Hermione was asked by George again.

Eventually it got dark and the soaring flowers disappeared. Instead countless lanterns emerged, floating in the air, moving only lazily. To Hermione's relief temperature stayed comfortable.

"I guess we should pay Bill a visit. What do you think?" George asked.

"Absolutely!" Fred called. He jumped up. "You coming, Ron?"

Their younger brother followed them, when they passed the other tables.

"Ohhh," Ginny said. "I love this song! Hermione, do you mind, if I leave you alone for a moment?" she asked, pulling Harry up.

"No problem," Hermione replied, while Ginny dragged Harry to the dance lawn. She watched them for a moment. Then she reached for her glass, when a shadow fell on the table.

Hermione raised her head, seeing Draco in front of her. He didn't in the least make the impression as if he had spent the last hours on the dance floor, Hermione thought. But who knows what he really had been doing. The French girls appealed to him for sure…

"What's up?" she asked.

"I…" he said, not letting her out of his eyes, "may I have this dance?" He offered her his hand.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. Her heart stopped for a beat. She stared at his hand and then looked him in the eye, while she replied: "Did the French girls run out of steam?"

"Don't you know," he said without blinking an eye, "that you save the best until last?"

Hermione held her breath. What was happening here? Draco Malfoy asked her for a dance? He deemed her better than all those pretty French girls, some of which had Veela blood? Was that some sort of trick?

Hermione looked at his hand again, which he was still offering. What could happen anyway?

Gulping, she took his hand and stood up.

A faint smile crept onto Draco's lips for a split of a second, before he led her past the tables to find a spot on the dance floor.

Hermione didn't know if she should say anything, but he took it off her hands.

"You know", he said, "up until a few weeks ago I would have never guessed that I would dance with a m-"

"I knew it!" Hermione cut him short angrily. Every time I think you will stop calling me a Mudblood, you do it again! When is it going to end?" She glared at him.

"I didn't want to call you a Mudblood," Draco said seriously.

"You didn't? What else then?"

"There are a lot of words starting with an M. I could have called you monstrous," the blond answered. "Or macabre, marvelous, masculine, malformed, mad, melodramatic, mischievous," he paused, fixing her hazelnut brown eyes, "or most beautiful."

Hermione held her breath, when the last words left his lips.

Beautiful?

He wanted to say that – she shook her head. What game was he playing?

"What I wanted to say," Draco started again, watching her every slightest move, "is that I would have never guessed that I could dance with such a beautiful girl like you. I didn't think that I would be so lucky."

In Hermione's head her thoughts were swirling. Was he pulling some trick? Did he plan to laugh in her face shouting how stupid she had been? He could get it out of his head! But what sense did this all make?

And what if he was telling the truth? It would feel so good to know that someone saw more in her than just the model student, a girl… a young woman… even if it was Draco Malfoy.

Hermione remembered all too well how her heart had turned somersaults, when Victor invited her to the ball. As well as how terribly disappointed, angry and sad she had been when Ron said with eyes wide open: "_Hermione – you really are a girl!"_

Even Harry hadn't thought of asking her after Cho's rejection…

But that was all forgotten quickly, when she had danced with Victor before the eyes of the whole school. Now that she thought about it even Draco had seemed speechless back then. Was it because she of all people had been dancing with Victor? Or because she had… looked pretty? Hermione knew that she had raised surprise with her appearance. Lavender and Parvati had assured her of it dozens of times…

"Are you alright?" Draco's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She nodded hastily, continuing their way, until they came to a free piece of lawn.

The music was calm and slow, not as before, when she was dancing with Fred.

Hermione let Draco come nearer, feeling his right hand gently on her back. She placed her hand on his shoulder and looked at him. She wondered if it was better to stare over his shoulder, but strangely enough it wasn't possible. Her glance was fixed on his grey eyes and couldn't be averted.

He began to move slowly and Hermione was suddenly overcome by a small wave of panic. He was an excellent dancer – but what about her? What if she stepped on his feet? She would probably have to endure his comments for a long time!

But nothing happened.

She rocked to the rhythm of the music, feeling herself relaxing and enjoying it. Her eyes were still locked to his, which showed neither scoff nor arrogance… but what they did show, Hermione couldn't say. It just felt so good not having to think about anything, but to just float to the calm melodies…

When the music stopped, Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry. She would have liked to continue. But Draco led her back to their table, where they sat down silently.

Hermione tried hard to appear calm, but within her there was an uproar. Her heart seemed to beat faster than ever before. Of course that was only due to the exertion, that Hermione was sure of! After all it had beaten as fast, after she had danced with Fred… but Hermione knew this wasn't true. It wasn't the strain that made her go haywire. Was it because of Draco? She scolded herself for being so silly…

Hermione watched Harry and Ginny sneak away almost unnoticed and disappear between the trees. Her eyes roamed over the crowd, stopping on Bill and Fleur. Such a magical wedding was really perfect, she thought. Only true love could enable it. Hermione paused and turned to Draco.

"There are arranged marriages between purebloods, aren't there?" she asked frowning.

"Well spotted," Draco answered absently.

"But how is that supposed to work? I mean if they both don't… love each other, how can they be married?"

Draco turned to her. "There is also another ceremony. The father of the groom and the mother of the bride play the main roles in it, they marry their children off."

"And the children – "

"- can't do anything about it."


	13. Reunion

**Chapter 13 – Reunion **

Sometime, long after midnight, also the last guests Disapparated and Hermione, the Weasleys, the Delacours, Harry and Draco had returned to the mansion.

Hermione could only remember tumbling into her room with Ginny and falling into her bed tiredly. Hermione dropped off almost immediately and didn't know what she had dreamt the next morning. Had she known, it would have made her wonder. She had dreamt of a couple floating over the lawn minute by minute, hour by hour. Over them was the clear sky, littered with sparkling stars, and faceless figures were dancing around them. And grey eyes again and again. If Ginny had woken up, she would have found Hermione with a silent smile on her lips. But Hermione had no idea.

Both girls only woke up around noon and staggered through the mansion drowsily, till they eventually found what they had been looking for: a bathroom. A great deal livelier they went to the dining room, where half the table was occupied by tired looking characters. The other half was still sleeping in their wonderfully soft beds.

Not much happened that day. They had looked at Bill and Fleur's presents thoroughly, eaten, talked. All in all they had taken it easy.

Now and then Hermione had thrown furtive glances to Draco, who didn't seem to notice though. Her picture of him had been turned upside down since last night and now she didn't really know how to handle it. She almost went to ask him to explain his behavior. But Hermione had put that idea right out of her mind. Apparently for Draco everything was alright and not at all unusual.

Hermione overcame her confusion quite quickly and didn't think about their dance and his words anymore, which had warmed her up so much.

On the next morning Hermione woke up early. Much too early, for it wasn't even light outside and everyone else was probably still asleep. She fumbled for her alarm cautiously, so Ginny wouldn't wake up, and tried to make out the time in the dark. 5:37.

She lowered her head on the pillow again, closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

Without success. She rolled around, lying on her side and trying not to think anything. But sleep didn't come.

After half an hour Hermione got up quietly, threw over her cloak, put on her shoes and sneaked out of the room

She knew the way outside by now. Leisurely she strolled through the corridors, until she got to the entrance hall, where she opened the large wooden door cautiously. She slipped outside, closed the door and took a deep breath. It was comfortable outside, there was no breeze. The moon was on the sky, which was adorned by a few stars.

Hermione took a walk along the route, past all the flowers over the lawn, till she got to the trees. She climbed over a big root and soon found a narrow path, which she followed.

She was not afraid that she would get lost. The wood was not really dense; she could still see the lawn from where she was. And as long as she stayed on the path, nothing could happen.

After several minutes Hermione approached a fallen tree, on which she sat down. It was already dawning. Hermione raised her head, looking towards the sky, where the glowing moon was still to be seen.

Hermione just sat there, letting her thoughts wander. She enjoyed the silence, the scent of the forest and simply relaxed. Hermione thought of Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest, which radiated a completely different atmosphere.

Today was August 27th and in a few days a new school year was about to start. In the past few days Hermione had unsuccessfully waited for the letter from Hogwarts and almost wondered, if Professor McGonagall knew that they wouldn't return. Not anytime soon anyway. The thought of the castle, which had been her home for so long, made her sad. She was desperate to go back soon. Maybe to search for Gryffindor's sword… Hermione thought of the painting, the corridors, the feasts, when suddenly a strange feeling overcame her. An uncomfortable feeling, which sent chills down her spine. Was she being watched?

Hermione put her hand in her pocket – no wand!

She jumped up and looked around her hastily.

Nothing. She could see no one. She exhaled relieved, but somehow she still didn't feel safe. She decided that it would be the best to go back. She wasn't exactly eager to find herself in front of a bear searching for food.

Hermione followed the winding path, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched.

But eventually she couldn't contain herself anymore and looked back over her shoulder.

Her breath caught.

For a moment she was glued on the spot, her eyes fixed on a tall, dark figure. A man with a black coat was standing between the trees about twenty feet from her. Hermione couldn't see his face.

Finally she freed herself from her rigidity and broke into a run. She dashed through the trees, her panicked eyes pointed in front of her. She didn't dare look back, so she didn't know if he was following her.

Relief overcame her, when she spotted the green lawn between the trees.

Only a few steps and she was on the lawn. Hermione span around. There was neither hide nor hair of her pursuer. Yet she continued her pace, until she stopped in front of the mansion. She ripped the door open, rushed in and slammed it shut again.

Hermione leaned against the wood, panting. After several minutes, when no one came, she set off to her room.

Who had that been? A Death Eater? Here, in France?

She turned around a corner thoughtfully and bumped into somebody unexpectedly. Hermione let out a scream of horror, before she realized that it was only Harry whom she had knocked down.

"Hermione!" Harry called surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I was outside," Hermione answered. "Harry, there was someone!" She hastily told him about the man in the woods.

Harry's face became worried.

"Do you really think it was a Death Eater?" he asked, frowning.

"I don't know. I only saw him for a moment."

"We should tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Harry decided. "Although I can hardly imagine it…"

Hermione nodded.

She followed Harry into the dining room, where they fortunately found Mrs. Weasley, who could never stay long in bed.

"Harry, Hermione! What's the matter? Why aren't you sleeping?" she asked, looking up from her cup of coffee.

Hermione quickly reported what had just happened.

"My goodness!" Mrs. Weasley gasped out. "I… I'm going to Arthur. Don't leave the house!"

She hurried out and returned a few minutes later with Mr. Weasley, who could barely keep his eyes open, yet seemed to be worried.

"What should we do?" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Imagine if there are more of them!"

"Molly, calm down. I don't think we have to expect an attack! Not everyone with a black cloak is a Death Eater!"

"How can you be so sure?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "Harry is here! Maybe they are here because of him!"

„Molly, that would be absurd. It would be much easier to catch Harry, when he is not surrounded by two big families! Just think of all the Delacours in the house!"

"Shouldn't we tell the others then?"

"No, that would just create panic. We better let them sleep," Mr. Weasley decided.

The four of them sat down at the table, drinking coffee and trying not to worry too much.

Throughout the morning die others joined them and heard from Mr. Weasley what had happened. In the meantime Hermione's fear had vanished, for now it was unlikely that the Death Eaters, if it had been them, would attack. They had given her enough time to warn everybody after all.

After breakfast all temporary residents of the mansion were still sitting together at the table, talking, until an owl sailed through the window and brought the Daily Prophet.

Mr. Weasley unrolled the newspaper and stared at the front page blandly for several moments. Then he lowered the newspaper and said with a breathy voice: "Walden McNair and Lucius Malfoy have disappeared from Azkaban."

Silence.

Then everyone turned their heads to Draco, who was staring at Mr. Weasley incredulously.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and read the article aloud:

"_Flight from Azkaban_

_Two Death Eaters have escaped from Azkaban in the night, a spokesman of the ministry disclosed. As we were told, the fugitives are Lucius Malfoy and Walden McNair. Over a year ago both of them had been arrested in the Ministry for thievery and assaults on students. This is the third jailbreak in only few years and will probably be the last, so the spokesman says, as long as You Know Who upholds his superiority. The Ministry repeats its warnings to the Wizard community. Report conspicuous happenings to the Aurors immediately. _And so on and so forth."

The faces around the table vaguely reflected the horror that flowed through Hermione… Lucius Malfoy. All eyes wandered from Mr. Weasley to Draco and finally to Hermione.

Hermione just nodded and soon conversations started in worried tones.

Ron leaned towards Hermione and asked appalled: "Are you sure? You really think it was Malfoy?"

Hermione nodded again. "Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure."

"But how did he get here so fast? How did he know that we are here?" Harry asked.

"Maybe it wasn't about us, but about Draco," Hermione replied thoughtfully. She looked over to Draco who was staring into his cup with rigid face.

"How should he have known that he is here?" Ron murmured, following Hermione's eyes.

"From Snape. He knows that Draco is with us and he must have somehow found out that we are here. He is capable of everything." Hermione gulped at these words.

Draco hadn't expected that. He had always been sure that without the Dark Lord's favor his father would not stand a chance of breaking out. And he had been sure that the Dark Lord would never show him his benevolence anymore. On that account, Draco had never thought about what would happen if his father did get his freedom back.

The certainty that his father was somewhere near him, awoke mixed feelings in him.

Joy. Fear? Relief. Panic?

Draco didn't know if his father was sent by the Dark Lord or if he had began to search for his son on his own initiative. What would he say? Would he be pleased to see his son alive? Or would he be angry about Draco's failure, his escape and his new company? It seemed strange to him that he couldn't predict his father's reaction. Hadn't he always known what he was thinking?

Draco knew that it was risky. It could turn his life upside down, if not erase. But he had to see his father. But what he wanted to do then, he didn't know. Yell at him for his mother's death? For not standing by him, his son? Or would he beg for being allowed to return to him?

He didn't know what he wanted. A life with his father would mean a life for the Dark Lord. He couldn't fight against the Dark Lord, yet at the same time keep contact to his father. There were only two sides. On one was his father. On the other side was he himself.

Would he stay? Did he want to?

Draco looked outside the window of his single bedroom. It was already dark.

He threw on his cloak resolutely and grabbed his wand.

It didn't take long before he was outside, hurrying towards the forest.

When he walked along the path, he wondered how he was supposed to find his father in there. Hopefully he was still there. Or would it be better not to meet him at all?

"My son…" Cold was the voice which sounded from behind him out of nowhere. Draco turned around. He felt queasy, when the figure came into his field of vision. In front of him was Lucius Malfoy, wrapped in a black cloak, menacingly. Pale moonlight fell onto his face, a face which Draco had never seen on him. One single year in Azkaban had changed his father's appearance vigorously. The hair was like ever, but the face was haggard, unnaturally colorless, almost lifeless.

"I'm disappointed, Draco," Lucius said, examining his son critically from head to toe.

Draco didn't answer.

"Very disappointed. I have invested so much to get you a place in the Dark Lord's ranks as early as possible. But you failed. How could you fail?"

"I failed because you failed", Draco answered.

Lucius' grey eyes flashed. "No, that is not true. You know it, Draco. These two situations do not compare to each other. Besides you resisted the orders of your master. You were not supposed to leave Malfoy Manor."

"He wanted to kill me, father. Don't you mind at all?"

"I have to say – "

"He killed my mother!" Draco shouted angrily. "Because of you! Only because of you! Because you weren't able to manage children!"

"Don't speak to me like that," Lucius warned calmly.

"I will speak to you as I want to. Your wife was killed and it doesn't bother you in the least. It was your fault!" The rage, which had built within him, made Draco's voice shake.

"Draco. It was not my fault. It was yours!"

Draco gasped. "What's the matter, Father? Can't you own up to your own mistakes?"

"Listen to me carefully. Your mother died because you were a _coward_. If you had stayed in Malfoy Manor, the Dark Lord would have let both of you live. It was a test and a punishment at once."

"That's not true."

Lucius continued impassively: "But since our master had to discover that you had fled, he saw himself forced to kill Narcissa."

"Liar!" Draco yelled. "You're lying! You're talking about Mother, as if you didn't know her! You're not even sorry! You fricking – "

Draco didn't get any further, for Lucius had slapped him across the face with his gloved hand. Draco paused and stared at his father hatefully. It was years ago, since Lucius had hit him, and now he was doing it again, although it was Draco who had every reason to be angry at _him_!

"Don't you dare accusing me of something like that, Draco! In contrast to you I learned not to live after my feelings, but the wishes of my master. You will learn too. It won't bring Narcissa back, if I grieve or cry. Believe me, I miss her. And contrary to you I have already missed her for a year."

Draco didn't know what to say. He was too horrified. The painful question arose in his head. Was his mother's death really his fault?

"The Dark Lord will take you back despite all your mistakes, Draco. He knows your potential. He will teach you."

Draco's insides tensed up. This was what he had feared.

"I…" His voice failed.

"Draco, I'm ready to overlook all your mistakes. The Dark Lord is as well. You can provide us with valuable information about Potter. You will be rewarded for that! There is nothing you have to be afraid of."

"Why?" Draco asked with trembling voice.

"What do you mean, why?" Lucius repeated.

"Why should I provide your master with information? What good do I get?"

This question passed his lips without thinking.

"The master's favor. The master's priceless, but protecting favor."

"The favor wears off quickly."

"Draco, what's that you say?"

"Wouldn't it be better for me to revenge my mother's death?" Draco called.

"I see that you have already spent too much time with Potter and his kind. I'm taking you back home and then you will soon be… better."

"I think you misunderstood me, Father. I just don't see any sense in sacrificing my life for an old wizard, for my mother's murderer!"

Lucius was silent for a while. "And what do you want to do with life, if I may ask?"

"Didn't I just say?" Draco asked. "Revenge my mother's death."

"And how are you planning to accomplish it?" Lucius replied, sounding slightly amused, as if he was listening to the wild fantasies of a seven- year- old.

"With Potter's help, if necessary," Draco answered.

His father inhaled sharply.

"If you do that – "

"What then? Do you want to kill the last member of your family?" Draco shouted angrily.

"I should indeed! You are betraying your master, your _father_! But this time I will let you go."

Now it was Draco's turn to be surprised. "_What?_ What's that supposed to mean?"

"I regret that with this decision you make all the years of my education for naught. But don't misjudge me, Draco. I miss your mother and her death pains me as much as you. Yet I would never betray the master. Nor do I want the death of my only son. But you know that your decision means we are fighting on different sides of a violent war."

Draco stared at his father. What was happening here? Was his father accepting his son making common cause with Harry Potter? A new thought occurred to him. Could it be possible that his father wanted to support the revenge of Narcissa's death?

"Is that true?" Draco asked.

His father held his glance, but didn't answer. Instead he just disappeared with a light pop.

"_This time I will let you go."_ Draco pondered. And next time?

Hermione found it hard to fall asleep. She was sitting in an armchair in the entrance hall, a cloak over her shoulders and a book in her hands. She wanted to stop Draco, if he planned to go outside and look for his father. Hermione could imagine what consequences could follow. Draco knew much, too much to fall into the Death Eater's hands.

She had almost dozed off, when the large wooden door was opened quietly.

Hermione raised her wand, narrowing her eyes to recognize, whoever had come in.

"Merlin!" she gasped out, relieved. Draco swirled around with wide eyes.

"What are _you_ doing here!" he asked surprised. He seemed very tense and upset, as far as she could see.

"Actually I wanted to… ensure that you don't… scoot," she murmered. "But that you obviously did."

Draco looked at her puzzled.

"I'm afraid I came too late," Hermione muttered. "Did you meet him?" she asked, a touch of worry in her voice.

Draco nodded.

"Really? But… how come you are here?" she asked surprised.

He sat down in a chair next to her, staring into thin air.

"What did he say?" Hermione asked.

"I wouldn't know why that's any of your business," he said coolly.

Hermione sighed. "Do you really think that's necessary?"

"What is your problem? I didn't want to know what Ronnie is doing in your room at night either!"

"What? What are you talking about? He wasn't in my room!" Hermione shouted dismayed.

"He was too. I saw him."

"You must have been imagi… you mean back then!" Hermione said when a light dawned on her. "That was one single time!"

"If you say so," Draco murmured, shrugging.

"Okay," Hermione said, "you don't have to tell me, but I think it would help."

Draco snorted. "I have been waiting for that sentence."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione hissed. "I understand all too well that you are upset, but that's no reason to talk smack to me and you know it. You met you father, but that doesn't mean that you have to fall back into old habits!"

Draco sighed. "I know… I'm sorry."

Hermione examined him with raised eyebrows.

"Honestly!"

"You're not serious."

"How right you are."

Both were silence for a while.

Hermione looked at Draco with large eyes, when he unexpectedly started to tell her everything.

"You… you want to take revenge on Voldemort?" she asked unsurely, when he had ended.

"As if I could. I can only do it by helping Harry."

"That's true," Hermione sighed. A great load had been taken off her mind. Draco had not only survived the meeting with his father, but he hadn't turned away from them too. That had been Hemione's biggest worry. But apparently Draco could forgive no one for his mother's death.

"Damn!" he yelled so suddenly that Hermione winced. "He was right!"

Hermione had expected it. Of course he would believe his father and blame himself for Narcissa's murder.

"But – "

"No buts," Draco hissed angrily.

"Your father lied to you!"

Draco fury, the fury with himself, didn't subside. He clutched at his wand and stared at the dark wood angrily. With a fierce gesture he pointed it at a vase. The flowers it held withered instantly, the dried leaves and blossoms showering to the floor. Hermione looked at the vase and said: "Do you really think Voldemort wouldn't murder someone he had promised death in front of other people's eyes?" Hermione said hastily before he could interrupt her.

"Who is to say, what he would do?" Draco panted out.

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come one. It wasn't your fault. Do you think your mother would have wanted you to blame yourself?" she asked. She stared at him intently. He answered her glance and slowly his face changed. Hermione smiled lightly.

Without a word he stood up, leaving the hall.

Hermione looked after him with furrowed brows.

He didn't only notice Ron coming into her room, but he had kept it in mind too. Somehow this fact stunned Hermione.


	14. Unpredictable

**Chapter 14 – Unpredictable **

Although the room was arranged and furnished cosily, it seemed impossible to feel comfortable in the least. A fire was crackling in the corner, three of the four walls were covered by book shelves, on the floor there was a dark red carpet. A table and several chairs stood in front of the small window, through which the night sky was to be seen.

Lucius Malfoy had never been in this room before. Had he been alone, he probably would have wondered why this Muggle room was so similar to that of a wizard. But he was not alone and barely noticed anything of the chamber. The Dark Lord's aura seemed to cloak the room in a gloomy shadow, like it made everything in his reach grim. He possessed too much Dark magic to recognize anything in his surrounding as what they really were. Near him everything seemed black, cold and lifeless.

But Lucius was used to that. Blackness, coldness and lifelessness had been the only thing for one year that he had seen and felt.

"So your son wants to take revenge on me," the cold voice of his master said with a touch of amusement. "With Harry Potter's help." He laughed hoarsely and mirthlessly. "You seem to have completely failed in your parenting, Lucius."

Lucius didn't say anything, but just waited. He had learned to wait.

"You should have brought him to me. You will do that the next time. Bring me your son, Lucius."

"Where is the damn chocolate?" Ron cursed several days after they had returned to Grimmauldplace. "I know exactly that there was some left yesterday!" He ripped every cupboard door open, dug through cereal boxes and rummaged in the drawers.

"I didn't know that it was yours," Draco said, while he watched Ron bored.

"Did you eat it all? The _whole_ bar!" Ron stared at the blonde shocked. Then he emitted an ear-deafening cry.

"What now? Did a spider bite you?" Draco asked with furrowed brow.

"Damn, bloody hell," Ron yelled, after sticking his forefinger into his mouth. His face was twisted in pain.

"What`s the matter?"

"No, no spider!" Ron said. He sat down at the table.

"What then?"

"Cut my finger…" Ron mumbled, turning slightly red.

"Cut?" Draco asked. A wide smile formed on his face, which made Ron look even more embarrassed.

"I accidentally gripped a knife blade…"

Draco broke out in laughter. "Well, if you have to search for your chocolate in the drawer of the silverware", he snorted.

"Did you eat it?" Ron asked, trying to look at him punitively.

"Nope."

"Ha! And I'm supposed to believe that?"

Hermione, who had been sitting at the table the whole time, reading and only half- listening, pulled out something from under her book and said: "Yes, Ron. I'm afraid, you have to believe him."

Ron turned his eyes from Draco and fixed the crumbled paper on the table, where the letters "eam-milk" were still to be seen

"Merlin! Hermione!" Ron called, staring at Hermione with an expression of pure horror.

Draco was literally shaking with laughter and Hermione grinned sheepishly.

"Did you eat the whole bar? All by yourself? In one day?" Ron breathed.

"I think… so", Hermione murmured.

"That is…"

"Oh, come one, Ron. Do you think she will gain five pounds out of it?" Draco asked, who had finally managed to contain himself.

"No, that's not it…"

Draco shrugged.

"Pretty warm here, isn't it?" he asked after a while.

"It's August", Hermione replied.

"Tomorrow it's not anymore", Ron murmured.

"And yet it is warm", Draco said, rolling up the sleeves of his pullover. A cold shiver ran over his back, when he once again stared at the skull and the snake burned into his forearm. His eyes darkened. He hated it. Every time it woke him up with a burning pain on the skin, hated it. But what could he – Suddenly an idea came to him.

"You know what?" He slowly raised his head and looked over to Ron and Hermione.

"Hmm?"

"Where is Harry?"

Hermione tested the charm one last time. She murmured something, raised her wand over her head. Immediately a big bubble sprang out of the wooden tip, shooting over their heads. She turned around and saw that Harry, Draco and Ron had also mastered the spell. She let her bubble vanish.

"Well, see you tomorrow then", she called to them and left the library, where they had been practicing.

When she was lying in her bed, she went through everything in her head. Draco had told them of a sea in the woods, in which he had received his Dark Mark. According to her theory Hufflepuff's cup could be in there, for it had to be in a hiding place having to do with water and earth. They didn't really feel confident about it, but it was an idea, which they absolutely had to pursue. Tomorrow, so it was planned, they would Apparate to the forest, dive into the sea and search for the cup.

Hermione slept uneasily this night, which was not due to the fact that she was a terrible swimmer. Slowly but surely she was seeking for something else in her dreams and thoughts, strictly speaking it wasn't something, but someone. A someone with grey eyes… Distracted and tired as she had been in France, she soon hadn't thought about him anymore. But since they were back here, she often wondered why Draco had danced with her. It wasn't like he hadn't been able to find another partner, on the contrary! So why then? Hermione racked her brain, for she couldn't make sense out of his behaviour. Draco had always been one to despise her. That had changed admittedly, but only so far as they were getting along, just as Ron and Harry did. Nothing more.

Hermione sighed.

The trees of the forest, in which they had just Apparated, towered highly over their heads. It was before noon and they didn't feel half as uncomfortable as they had expected. Nevertheless the woods weren't really inviting, which was probably due to the fact that it was a dense coniferous forest. Except for the trees there was barely another plant on the earthy ground.

"Where is the sea now?" Ron asked.

"We have to walk for a bit. First we have to go over the clearing where the… ceremonies take place," Draco explained. Slight disgust was reflected on his face.

"And where is this clearing?" Harry asked.

"This direction," Draco took the lead, climbing over roots and ducking under hanging branches.

They walked silently, not noticing anything but the intensive smell of the trees and the sound of their steps. They didn't encounter any bird or other animal.

"I don't get it why You- know- who gathers his Death Eaters here of all places", Ron grumbled. "I mean, what – "

"Quiet!" Harry hissed suddenly, raising a hand. All four of them stopped and listened tensely.

"There is someone", Hermione whispered in horror. They heard voices, voices of men. They couldn't hear what they were saying from that distance.

They exchanged glances and then sneaked nearer, towards the voices. Soon they could see a clearing in front of them, where there were six figures talking. They stopped in the shadow of a pine tree, trying to hide as good as possible.

When Hermione examined the men closer, she noticed that five of them were covered in black cloaks; the sixth was wearing an apparently dirty brown coat. He was being grabbed by one of the men and shaken.

"We don't like to wait, do you understand?" the man hissed. "You better tell us now, since we will hear about it anyway!"

The addressed man shook his head and at that moment Hermione recognized him. She gasped in horror.

It was Mundungus Fletcher.

Harry and Ron seemed to recognize him at the same moment, for they exchanged horrified glances.

"Spit it out!" another one shouted. "Where is the boy?"

"I don't know," Mundungus whimpered, struggling in vain to get out of the Death Eater's grip.

"Oh really? Then I will have to jog your memory." Scorn and anticipation resonated in the man's menacing voice. He threw Mundungus hard to the ground, bending over him. "Where is Harry Potter?" he hissed.

"I really don' know!" Mundungus screeched with a voice so high that Hermione had never heard from his mouth.

"We know this excuse already, Dung." The Death Eater turned towards his tall, broad- shouldered companion. "Walden, I think it's time for your… Muggle methods."

"My pleasure," the man, who apparently was Walden McNair, answered. Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine, as she saw him nearing Mundungus, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up.

Hermione was just wondering, if they really wanted to torture him without magic, when McNair's fist came down, hitting Mundungus in the stomach region. He groaned and tried to stumble away, but McNair had already struck a second blow.

Hermione suppressed a stifled cry just in the last moment, after the fist hit him for the third time. He stood there shaking, fear in his eyes and bleeding from the nose. McNair grabbed him and yanked him to himself. "Where is Potter?" he asked.

Mundungus shook his head desperately. McNair hurled him to the ground again, stooping over him.

"Believe me, it can get a lot worse." His fist hit Mundungus once again. And again. And again.

Hermione closed her eyes in horror, but as much she forced herself to not listen, Mundungus' muffled cries she couldn't ignore. She looked around at Harry and whispered: "Can't we do anything? He will be beaten to death!"

Harry shook his head, lips pressed together, eyes blazing with fury. "We are outnumbered."

Of course they were outnumbered. They couldn't cope with six Death Eaters.

Hermione dared looking at Mundungus, who was lying on the ground, panting. His face was covered in blood. His breath was irregular, his hands were shaking.

"Walden, we should try out conventional methods," a voice beneath a black hood rang out.

Reluctantly McNair stood up and moved aside, while another Death Eater stepped forward and pointed his wand at Mundungus.

"No, I dunno anything," Mundungus panted, but he was already hit by the Cruciatus curse.

Hermione winced in horror, then felt a calming hand on her shoulder.

Mundungus was letting out coarse cries of pain, while the Death Eaters were laughing. It seemed to Hermione as if an eternity had passed, when the Death Eater finally lifted the curse off Mundungus, who was now staring with strangely twisted eyes at them.

"Tell us now where Potter is," the Death Eater ordered.

"No… nothing… dunno anything…" Mundungus stuttered with great effort, trying to control his shaking body.

"You still don't know? Then maybe we have to – "

"This won't work!" another Death Eater interrupted him. "We have to do it a different way. Imperio!"

The suffering expression on Mundungus' face disappeared. His eyes became glazed.

"Where is Harry Potter?" the Death Eater, who had cast the Imperius curse on him, asked.

"I don't know," Mundungus grumbled.

The Death Eaters exchanged glances.

"Do you know where Harry Potter is?" one of them asked again.

"No."

"Is he in Hogwarts?"

"I don't know."

"Damn!" another Death Eater cursed loudly. "How the devil is this possible? What are we supposed to tell our Lord!"

McNair stepped forward and kicked Mundungus angrily.

"What do we do with him now?" he asked.

"We leave him here and clear out of here," another one decided. They consulted with each other and soon they Disapparated, leaving Mundungus on the clearance.

Hermione exhaled relieved and felt the hand slipping off her shoulder. She turned around, expecting to find emerald-green or blue eyes, but it was grey ones she met. Draco held her glance for a moment, before he stood up and followed Harry and Ron, who had already run to Mundungus. Hermione hurried to them and knelt beside Mundungus, who was lying there with eyes closed and fighting for air.

"Dung?" Ron asked cautiously and prodded him.

Mundungus opened his eyes in panic. It took him a moment to recognize, who was with him.

"Harry… Ron… what are you doing here?" He turned his head and saw Hermione and Draco.

"Who is this?" he asked, before he suddenly had a cough attack. Harry and Ron helped him to straighten up.

"Who is this? What are you doing here?" He spat out blood.

"Mundungus!" Hermione cried. "What can we do? You have to see a healer! Episkey!" She tried to lessen his injuries, but she couldn't accomplish much.

"How did that happen?" Harry asked.

Mundungus opened his mouth, but at the same moment he collapsed and was again shaken by another cough attack. "Diagon Alley," he pressed out.

"We have to bring you to St. Mungo's," Hermione decided, wiping blood from his face with her sleeve.

"No…" Mundungus objected weakly. "Wait… you have to wait. Harry…" he turned his head slightly and looked at Harry, as if he had to make a difficult decision.

"Here," he murmured and grabbed his collar with a sweaty, bloody hand, pulling out a chain.

A golden locket appeared. A locket they had already seen before! It was completely round and bordered by a pattern. In the middle there was an S, with which a snake was twined around.

Harry reached for the locket. "Where did you get it?" he asked breathlessly.

"From… Sirius' house," Mundungus said. "I'm sorry… keep it."

Harry took the locket from him with sparkling eyes, inspecting every inch of the glinting metal.

"You think… it's… you know what?" he whispered, looking at Ron and Hermione. Both nodded mutely and watched Harry slipping the locket into his pocket.

"Mundungus, we have to get you out of here! Now!" Hermione repeated worriedly. "We have to Apparate to St. Mungo's!"

"Okay, you get him out of here and I will bring the locket to Grimmauld Place," Harry decided.


End file.
